


Entanglement

by bushybeardedbear



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Kinda Shiro/Allura if you squint...?, Multi, Other, flirtyrobot, pidgance, plance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-04-16 17:59:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14170428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bushybeardedbear/pseuds/bushybeardedbear
Summary: Shiro groaned, “Alright, random unexplained telepathy, teenaged hormones and most of the team has been incapacitated by alien food. Just another perfectly normal Wednesday…” What begins with an attempt to contact other realities, instead brings two paladins perilously closer.Now with chapters for ease of reading.





	1. Flurry Of Green Goo

**Author's Note:**

> [ **AUTHOR’S NOTE:** Whilst placing a fanfiction into an exact place in Canon can sometimes be tricky – _especially_ with such a well written series – I consider this to nestle somewhere between the events of seasons 4 and 5. That and/or to exist in one or _many_ of potentially infinite alternate realities. That said, I hope you enjoy.]

Puzzled was an emotion that Lance was very familiar with. He was puzzled by the flavour of the smooth gelatinous green lump he was nibbling on, convincing himself it was simply a semi-solid handheld strawberry milkshake. He was puzzled by the political shake ups, shifting allegiances and games of musical lions that he and the others had been part of recently. He was puzzled that they had managed to find a few days of relative calm out among the stars, but thankful. He was _still_ puzzled by who would be his rival now that Keith had decided to join a bunch of alien space ninjas. He was even puzzled if alien space ninja was _almost_ cooler than the Blue Paladin of Voltron. Had Keith _won_ …? Wait… is he the _Red_ Paladin now? Do you name by suit or lion? Or _both_? Was he the Purple Paladin now…? Or The Right Hand Of Voltron…? That last one sounded pretty badass. Whatever. He would always be the sharpshooter, whatever colour or impressive title he eventually decided upon. What was currently puzzling Lance the most however, was the sight before him in the green hangar bay.

Draped, coiled, interfaced, cable tied, glued, stuck, soldered, spooled and hanging from the Green Lion were a maddening collection of wires, cables and fibre bundles of countless colours, configurations and states of either glowing or not glowing. Attached to each of them, an even more baffling array of devices, nick knacks, components and doohickys all whirring, buzzing, clicking and pinging. Lance felt a pang of sympathy as he looked to the Green Lion’s expressionless yet to his mind at least somehow embarrassed face. Sat beside the great metal star beast, among a nexus of interconnected tech, their resident genius worked hurriedly away. Glancing between one of several screens, both physical and holographic, tapping on every kind of interface from a partially melted keyboard to a reverse engineered Galra Robot’s head, Pidge was absorbed in her work.

Wandering over, still nibbling on the green goo ball (he couldn’t remember if it was actually called an almost unpronounceable Altean word that somehow rhymed with both Orange and Purple or a juicy Gohraiohn. It may not have been either…) Lance let out an impressed whistle, rocking on the balls of his feet. Pidge continued to work silently. Lance let out another impressed whistle, this one louder and more insistent. No joy. As he began breathing in for the third, Pidge glared at the boy over the rim of her glasses.

“What?” She asked, with no attempt to conceal her irritation. Lance was almost as familiar with this look of disdain and impatience as he was with being puzzled. “ _What…?_ ” She added, more insistent than before.

“What’cha doooooing…?” Lance glanced about the scene again, “Looks…interesting…?”

“You’re bored, you can’t get past level 27 of Killbot Phantasm and everyone else is busy.” Pidge responded, returning to her work. “Well guess what, I’m busy as well, Lance. As for what I’m doing, right now I’m being _distracted_ from very important calculations…”

Lance lowered himself to her, staring over one shoulder at what to him was utter gibberish on one of the monitors. He chewed loudly on the green goo ball, “Calculations for what…?” His goo muffled question came.

“Right now, I’m thinking about the necessary velocity for _defenestration_ through Altean material…” Pidge grumbled, shoving Lance aside and double checking a second monitor.

“And that needs all this equipment…?” Lance teased, playing just a little extra dumb. “And it’s really taken you most of the day…?” His second question came with a flurry of green goo crumbs.

Pidge paused, momentarily checking an often overlooked device. Her watch. He wasn’t wrong, she’d been at this for at least 12 hours. It had only felt like two. Three tops. “Wow…” She breathed, “Not really relevant though… See, unlike you, when _I_ get bored and restless I find myself a project. When _you_ get bored and restless you just decide to bug people who are being productive…”

“Breaks improve my productivity…” Lance grinned, “That’s why I take so many. When did you last have one?”

Pidge furrowed her brow, but before she could answer, her stomach did with a loud growl. “Ok, fine, I guess I’ll just take a five minute break…”

“Thirty.” Lance insisted.

“What!? No way, ten max!”

Lance, looking thoughtful as he took a seat on a nearby cargo barrel, responded; “Twenty!”

“Fifteen!”

“Ok, done.” Lance smiled, plucking a second green goo ball from his jacket pocket. “Catch?”

Pidge stood, grasping the wobbling quasi-food in one hand before peeling off an almost invisible protective outer coating. “Not risking you hitting any of my equipment…”

“You mean, if you couldn’t catch…” Lance’s elbow gently prodded her side as she took a seat beside him.

Pidge ignored his goading, scrunching up the outer layer into a tight ball and eating it in one go. Tucking into the rest of her snack, she could feel the unmistakable surge of energy from a long needed meal. She hadn’t realised it until now, but she hadn’t exactly been thinking as clearly as she should have been.

“So…what is all this then…?” Lance enquired again, “Green need another tune up…?”

“More like, Green is a tuning _fork_ …” Pidge was silent for a moment, trying to think of how to explain her experiment in layman’s terms. Then trying to simplify that further for Lance. Eat more, painful explanations later, change the subject. “Did you bring this second Spapple for me…?”

“Spapple!” Lance cried out suddenly, “ _That’s_ what we called them, _Space Apple_ , Spapple! Man, that’s been bugging me for a while…” Lance chuckled as he took another big bite from the quivering mass.

Pidge looked to the green goo, the Spapple, thankful for the silly name to accompany the pleasant taste. Anything to distract herself from whatever it _really_ might have been. “Well…thanks…”

“Not a problem.” Lance shrugged, “You _never_ feed yourself mid-project…”

“Don’t need a second Space Dad… Shiro has the position filled already.”

“Well, how about just a friend looking out for you?”

“That’s fine I guess…” Pidge smiled at the grinning idiot beside her. “So, what’s got you distracted enough to _pretend_ to be interested in what I’m doing…?”

“You shouldn’t confuse a lack of _understanding_ for a lack of _interest_ , Pidge.” Lance sighed, “Though I’m guessing it’s the same as you. Things just keep getting more complicated. Soon as we think we’ve settled into a team, know who our enemies are, it’s all just… Mixed up again…”

Pidge nodded, “This is why I prefer the relative simplicity of quantum mechanics…”

“Ha! Mechanics! I knew you were tuning up Green! Trust you to find _yet another_ way to overclock an ancient part magic, part technology super weapon… How many upgrades is that now…?”

“You _know_ what quantum mechanics are, Lance. To at least a D grade… You were glad to have even passed that test back at the Garrison…” Pidge shrugged, “You don’t have to play _extra_ dumb just to try and make me laugh…”

“Alright, but it’s not like I could…shake out the difference between a Higgs Boson and a Superstring…?”

Pidge laughed slightly, more from surprise, “Lance, did you just try to tell a physics joke…?”

“Did I get it right…?” Lance turned away in very minor embarrassment, “Hunk insisted it was a pretty good one, I just had to take his word for it…”

“The joke is that according to Superstring theory there would essentially _be_ no difference. Except the relative vibration, the shaking, along the superstring. In fact, there’d be no difference between _anything_ really...”

Lance stared dumbfounded.

“I appreciated the joke. Or the effort at least.” Pidge noticed her Spapple was growing ever smaller. “Quiznak…”

“Still hungry?” Lance dumped the remainder of his into her palm, “Couldn’t take another bite…”

“You could have wiped it off first…”

“Relax! We won’t be sharing spit, this one’s just extra juicy…”

Pidge wasn’t sure if that was better or worse, but carried on snacking regardless. “Do you really want to know what I’m doing, or am I just a distraction from something _you’re avoiding_?”

“Both.” Lance responded honestly. “Not really in the mood for Altean calisthenics… Or Coran’s skin-tight workout gear… Or Coran’s workout playlist… Or the weird smell of Coran’s sweat to be honest…”

“That makes sense.” Pidge nodded, Altean man-funk was something else. “So, what – if anything – do you know about quantum entanglement…?”

“Isn’t that when molecules are _best friends_ …?” Lance thought back to a rather patronising physics teacher who used that on him as a joke. Stupid the things that stick with you, right?

Pidge smiled, “Kinda. It’s more like they’re identical twins, but only _sort of_ … But what’s important is that whatever happens to one particle of an entangled pair also happens to its twin instantly, regardless of distance. With the right equipment, it can be turned into a means of communication that has unlimited range, _but_ only between two points.”

“Still sounds pretty useful…” Lance was still thinking back to his physics teacher. He wondered if he might have had a better time of it with someone like Pidge. She could be incredibly patient with him. Sometimes.

“Useful is right, it’s practically a necessity given the vast distances we have to talk over… It’s possible to create an array of entangled pairs in a network some acting as relays, in fact most communication tech out here uses it to greater or lesser extents. Makes hacking Galra comm channels tricky sometimes.” That beaming smile that only ever seemed to show up around technology lit up her face, her tone at once shifting from the matter of fact to the almost giddy, “That’s why I was so excited to find that thing! A Programmable Particle Chamber!” She pointed to an item among her workspace, a glowing blue cylinder that until now Lance had assumed was just a cool lamp.

“Go on…” Lance couldn’t deny it was…nice, to see her so animated. He wandered over to the lamp, the device, the _thingy_ that Pidge was so excited about. He gently prodded it, feeling a slight warmth. “So what is it?”

“No touching! It’s…” Pidge paused, trying to find a good example, “Like a radio. You can tune the frequency of the particle inside, allowing it to possibly entangle with other identically tuned particles! With the right frequency, we could attune ourselves into Galra communication lines and remain totally undetected! No need to decrypt a thing, no chance of detection, we’d just be treated as another part of their network... But there’s _way_ more we could do than that, we could possibly entangle with exceptionally distant points of the universe. In theory and if I was able to entangle with the right kind of tech, we could even communicate with Earth.”

Lance frowned, the prospect of contacting Earth seemed almost too good to be true. “Wait though, if you’re trying to _tune_ this particle radio into a twin, somewhere, _anywhere_ … Isn’t that like searching for a needle in a haystack or like a whole field of haystacks…?”

“Yes exactly! But on a _universal scale_!” Pidge beamed, “That’s before you even consider that the twinned particle might not be in a position to provide useful or recognisable feedback! But…I started thinking a little bit wider. And that’s where Green comes in…”

“As a tuning fork…?” Lance was feeling puzzled again. Though, the more he watched Pidge’s excitement grow, the less he seemed to care about that. He just smiled to himself instead as she continued.

“Right! A tuning fork and a broadcast tower! Green, like all the Lions, is made entirely of a Trans-Reality material, something that existed outside any one universe, that can even potentially travel between universes. So, by attempting as many methods as I can think of to route the signal _through_ said material, with the various devices you see carefully placed upon my lab assistant.” Pidge straightened her glasses with a smirk, “I can extend my search not simply to _this_ reality but across _multiple_ realities!! I’m not just searching _one_ universe sized haystack, I’m searching multiple _versions_ of the same haystack trying to find multiple examples of the same needle! It might even be possible to connect to several universes _simultaneously_ assuming each has an exact replica of the first particle!”

Lance’s brow furrowed even deeper as he tried to wrap his head around it all. “So, you’re going to try and find a paired particle in another universe…? Why though…?”

“In theory, yes. As for why, I’m testing the upper limits of what’s possible. Pushing new boundaries for it’s own sake… What I do with the findings afterwards depends on exactly what I find… Besides, it’s fun. Kinda.” Pidge nodded to herself, satisfied and took the last gulp of her Spapple. “So far I’ve been trying with fairly common elements. Carbon, Hydrogen, you know, the stuff you’d find everywhere. I’ve had a few hits but nothing that couldn’t be chalked up to simple background noise. I’ve been refining the search obviously, but… I’m not even sure if this is working or not… There’s no way to know for sure until I find something…”

“Or some _one_ …” Lance began to rub his chin thoughtfully, “If movies have taught me anything, it’s that the first alternate universe you find _usually_ is the evil mirror universe… I wonder what evil Pidge would look like…? Did you ever have a goth phase growing up…? I bet it’d look a lot like that…”

“That’s a ridiculous idea…The goth phase I mean. Seriously, I’d melt if I wore all black…” Pidge paused, “As for the evil mirror universe… We _did_ find ourselves in that reality where the Alteans were the bad guys… So your dumb theory might not be _so_ dumb after all…”

Lance grinned triumphantly, “Feel free to call me a genius, Pidge. In fact, why not call a version of yourself out there and tell _her_ version of Lance that he’s a genius as well!”

Pidge paused. Gears turning. A sudden revelation. “Oh my… Lance! Lance, that’s brilliant! Accidental brilliance it may be, but still!” Pidge leapt into her workstation, hammering out new and fresh ideas, “Alright, so if I had to pick a universal constant… Pi? Sure, try Pi…”

“Uh, Pidge…? What the heck did I just say…?”

“ _Contact a version of myself_!” Pidge’s smile was almost manic, her eyes lit up in joy, “The many worlds hypothesis states that there could easily be an _infinite_ number of alternate realities. It stands to reason that in at least one of those infinite realities, I, or another version of me at least, has, will or even am currently conducting this same experiment! All I have to do is attune my particle to…well, something _I_ would attune my particle to. In this case I’ll try Pi up to 15 places, one for every year, and in theory…” She paused, “Well, in theory and given _time_ , I might just find another version of myself doing the same thing! Assuming a universe that operates on similar physical laws… If Pi fails there’s still the Golden and Silver Ratios, Khinchin’s Constant…ooooh, _Chaitin’s Constant_ _…_ ”

“Or the name of the first boy you had a crush on…?” Lance smirked. “Or your favourite _flavour_ pie…?”

“Converted into a suitable cipher, maybe enigma, that could work as well…” Pidge responded absentmindedly, “Though it’s hardly the first thing _I’d_ think of… So probably not the first thing my _alternate_ would think of… And it’s not _that_ kind of pi I’m talking about…” She drummed her fingers on the particle chamber, feeling a slight static discharge. She withdrew her fingers with a sharp motion.

“Ow!” Lance suddenly remarked.

“No, I’m ok actually…” Pidge corrected him, “Thanks for the concern though… Sorry to be rude, Lance, but I have a lot of new avenues to explore now… Do you think I could have some quiet…?”

Lance smiled at the hopeful eyes glancing in his direction, “Not a problem, Pidge. Maybe I’ll be back in another few hours, assuming you miss another meal… Which you will.”

“That’s fine, you do that...” Pidge was almost back in full concentration mode, “Thanks, by the way for the suggestion.” She added, “You can be pretty useful sometimes…”

“I’ll take that as a compliment!” Lance called from the other side of the hanger bay, already making his way out. Then, clearer than the shout yet softer he added, “She just has no idea how cute she is when she geeks out…”

Pidge paused, turning back to him to demand an explanation but the Blue Paladin was already on the other side of the elevator doors. No time for his teasing though, work to be done.

 

* * * * * * * *

 

Pidge was growing impatient. There was no way of knowing for sure if anything she did was working. There was no point changing anything because perhaps what _should_ be instant became significantly less so when factoring in multiple realities, the spaces _between_ reality _and_ the interaction of the entire process with a temperamental sentient magi-tech super weapon. Truth be told, there were simply too many variables to account for. She suddenly felt very much like the 20 th century pioneers at SETI. All geared up to go, waiting for a signal. Just, waiting. The SETI program was now a historic footnote, and they never heard a peep for the best part of a century. At least, not as far as the public knew. In short, all she could do was wait, but that waiting may prove ultimately futile.

Looking hopelessly up to her Lion, she sighed, “Am I just wasting my time, girl…?”

The Green Lion’s eyes lit up into a soothing glow, the war machine bowing its head slightly, yet avoiding disrupting any of the cables. Through their unspoken bond, Pidge could feel her response. Giving up was not in Pidge’s nature.

“Ok, sure, giving up would suck… But maybe I just need to come at it from another angle again…? I bet you’d be happy to get those wires off, right…?”

The Green Lion’s slight growl was one tinged with annoyance. Through their bond, the same response as before. Though there was also a faint admission that a few wires had become irritating. If a lion of Voltron can feel itchy, that might be the best way to describe the sensation.

“Ok then, how about I pack this up for the day, maybe try again tomorrow…?” Though even as Pidge asked that of her partner, a whine over the static brought her to attention. She snapped around to a screen, pulling up a second readout, checking a waveform graph, two graphs, each starting to synchronise. Pidge’s eyes widened in disbelief and joy. An image was starting to form. “Holy cow, Girl, look!”

Unable to fully turn to face the screen, the Green Lion silently grumbled.

From the clearing static, a familiar face began to form. It certainly should have looked familiar. Aside from them having much shorter hair, it was as though she was looking into a low resolution mirrored image of herself. “Hello World!! I mean, I guess, hello _alternate_ world!!” Pidge was on the verge of leaping into the air with joy, in fact, she did, cheering wildly, “Wow! I can’t believe it… Hi Alternate Pidge!! This is incredible!!”

The alternate version was just smiling, as the image became clearer, Pidge was sure she could make out stubble. When the alternate spoke, there was no doubt it was stubble. “First time right?” The deep tone of the alternate asked, “You’re younger than I was. Haven’t even grown my first beard...”

Pidge frowned, “Wait, _seriously_? The first alternate reality I find is the _Rule 63_ version of me…?”

Alt-Pidge laughed, “That’s a term I haven’t heard in a while. Yes, I suppose I am exactly that from your perspective. You’re a bit of a rarity in the multiverse yourself, if I’m getting your meaning. I’ve only found maybe a handful of female versions of us. Are the rest of your Paladins Male?”

“Yours aren’t…?” Pidge shook her head, “Wait, hold on, you’ve been doing this longer than I have…? So your universe, relative to mine is…the future…?”

“I know you have a million questions, but slow down!” Alt-Pidge smiled, “I _always_ have a million questions. I’ll start with the first. With the exception of Prince Allurn and myself, our Paladins are all women. Shizuko is Black, Arihi is Yellow and Lauren is Blue…no, wait she’s Red now…I just always think back to when we first met...” Pidge couldn’t help but notice the dreamy tone to his voice, “What about yours?”

“Well, there’s Princess Allura, Shiro is our black, Hunk our yellow and Lance is our blue, also now red… Well, still _blue_ but pilots red… Why _didn’t_ we change uniforms as well…?”

“Lance you say? What a small multiverse. Lauren and I named our first-born Lance… Sorry, what else was it? Oh, right, yes, I’ve been doing this since I was 16, so, eighteen years ago. How time flies… You must be 16 yourself?”

“15 actually.” Pidge couldn’t help being a little smug as she said so, perhaps partially to avoid another thing the Alt-Pidge had said that was silently bothering her. Lauren, the Alt-Lance and this Alt-Pidge…had a kid together. Weird.

“Early starter. Youngest I’ve met so far.” Alt-Pidge nodded, impressed, “And yes, I suppose given our age gap, my universe came to exist eighteen or nineteen years before yours…or our time flows faster than yours… Any number of explanations really, but relatively speaking I exist in an alternate version of what you _might_ call the future…”

“Right, an _alternate_ future. It could be so different to my own, that I’d probably not get much use out of your foreknowledge of events…” Pidge reasoned, trying to make sense of that one stupid detail. “Then again, your version of events might unfold in precisely the same way as mine… But there’s no possible way of knowing…” The stupid detail was back again. Quiznak.

“Welcome to the Pandora’s Box of _viewing_ alternate realities.” Alt-Pidge said darkly, “There’s a lot worse waiting for you out there, believe me. Most of us Pidges just talk to bounce ideas off each other. Multiple heads are better than one and all that. None of us have yet found a _safe_ way to cross the trans-reality gap, yet. Best we can do is fish out or locate trans-reality material from time to time. We all have our various versions of Voltron to thank for that. And yes, whilst we could…”

“Tear the universe a new one…?”

“I was going to say _drill a hole_ from one reality to another… But so far that seems to only lead to calamity later down the line. I’m sure you’ve seen at least some of that for yourself first hand… Integrating Altean Teludav technology also doesn’t play as nicely as you’d expect, at least not _always_. You could find yourself leaving one universe where the laws of physics allow it, only to find yourself stranded in a reality where the assumed multiversal constant… Well, _isn’t_. All we can do when we know our alternates are in peril is watch… I’m giving you the same warning I gave the others, you can turn back now if you want. Though I know what you’re going to say…”

“No way!” Pidge confirmed, “The applications of this technology are incredible! How could I possibly turn away?”

“Spoken like a true Pidge.” The alt-Pidge laughed, “I guess we’ll be seeing more of each other. Maybe a few years from now. Once you get all the bugs worked out.”

Pidge paled, “Bugs…? What bugs…?” It was then she noticed the very familiar scent of burning from somewhere in the hanger, “Oh for crying out loud…”

“The kind that result in fire.” Alt-Pidge laughed, “I can’t tell you _exactly_ what bugs, never the same ones. But you’ll figure it out. We always do. I’ll give you these two for free though. Try and use some _inert_ Trans-Reality material for the broadcast tower. It’ll be hard to get, but it’s worth it. Even a tiny sliver will do the job. Green can have a bit of a mischievous side when it comes to this stuff, he probably hates being covered in the wires…or maybe your green is a she as well…? Oh, and obviously make sure your PPC is properly shielded. 10,000 year old Altean Tech can cause all kinds of really _weird_ problems, especially with Green’s sense of humour…”

Already spotting several failures and seeing smoke begin to rise, Pidge paled further, staring in uncertainty at her screen, “By _properly shielded_ you mean, so the blue glow is… _visible…_?” She asked hopefully.

Alt-Pidge face-palmed and uttered, “Quiznak…” before the transmission was abruptly shut down. The rest of the wires and cables instantly burst into flame. Klaxons began to fill the air, Green shook the burning debris free from her chassis, whilst shielding Pidge with one titanic paw. In the next instant, the ceiling erupted. Flame retardant foam came gushing down, snuffing out the fires instantly, but covering Green in the thick foamy orange gloop. Only the paw above Pidge had saved her from getting the worst of it. She was still covered, but not smothered. Crucially to Pidge, she had just enough time to shield most of her more irreplaceable tech, notably the PPC and her laptop. Spitting a gob of flameproof foam from her face, Pidge could already feel the rest of it hardening.

“Superb…” She grumbled, letting out a long sigh then groan of frustration.

 


	2. The Absentee Trots On

It was much later, and Pidge was much _much_ more embarrassed. Retreating into the sanctity and safety of her cabin, then deeper into the nest of her bed behind walls of techy mess, she laid down heavily in her nightwear and drew in the blankets like a cocoon. Pidge again found herself running fingers through now mostly absent hair and letting loose a rather long and despairing moan. There was no choice really, the foam had clumped in there _good_. What couldn’t be chipped off, crumbled away or washed out of clothing, simply had to be cut free.

“Hunk tells me that on Earth this is a style given to Pixies! Though I know not what a Pixie is, their hair style will indeed suit you!” Allura had reassured her, several times in fact. The Princess had cheerily taken great chunks of her hair out with a fierce looking pair of Altean plasma shears, Pidge had been too terrified to even move during the process lest she lose an ear, “Don’t mind the burning smell, that _will_ fade!”

The majority of the foam and debris was taken care of with just allowing it to be vented into deep space, but with hose in hand and grimace on face, Pidge found herself washing out Green’s joints. Neither of the two had enjoyed the experience. Hunk and Shiro were obviously glad to see she was ok, but that relief very quickly gave way to merciless teasing. Even good old Space Dad couldn’t hold back a chuckle or several. Just about the only relief came from the fact that Coran had been working Lance like a dog to make up for the missed Altean calisthenics. Coran might have been sympathetic, but Lance had this uncanny ability to get under her skin at the best of times. She may well have broken something of his had he been there to laugh as well. Something internal. At least the Space Caterpillars had tried to soothe her with their cooing and snuggles before sleepily retreating to their… _Statue of Lance made of junk_. Why did they both have to be so attached to _that_ of all things…

Looking to her laptop and the PPC beside it, Pidge sighed. Properly shielded could mean anything, so the best she could manage was to hide the glowing tube beneath a lead lined box. Where she’d picked that up she was no longer sure, but hey, that would have to do for now. Allura and Coran had both been clueless about the device from the moment she found it deep in the castle vaults. The only thing covering it then was dust. She had been the one to translate its label, to interface the device with the Castle’s systems to find out what the heck it was supposed to do. No warnings popped up about proper shielding. Then again, maybe the Alteans never accounted for it being used over multiple realities…? Maybe it only needed shielding in _those_ circumstances…? Once she had chance to go over the data, she could rebuild a better version of the communication array. After telling everyone about her success that is. Didn’t have the chance to explain amidst all the laughter. Perhaps she could contact another Pidge in the multiverse, try and find out _how_ the thing is supposed to be shielded. Thankfully, nothing weird seemed to be happening despite the Alt-Pidge’s warning. Maybe the shielding only mattered in _some_ Universes? And he said something about his Green having a weird sense of humour… That didn’t sound like _her_ girl at all. Maybe in his stupid chromosome reshuffled reality, but not here. A stupid reality where a male version of her had apparently had a kid with a female version of Lance. What would she even _look like…_? What would the _kid_ look like…? A reality that obviously messed up was clearly the problem. Everything here was just fine…

“Alright, just knock. Don’t be an asshole, doesn’t matter how funny this all was. Even if her hair looks stupid, don’t laugh. Just _don’t be an asshole_. You can manage that, right…? Upset Pidge _bad_. Smiling Pidge… _great_ …” Pidge heard this all and felt like sinking deeper into her bed. Lance, walking down the hallway, loudly talking to himself. One more round of laughter to come. A soft knock at the door, “Pidge, are you awake…?”

“I could hear you coming down the hallway.” Pidge groaned.

“Oh…good ear…?” Lance sounded a little confused, before adding softly, “You…ummm…you… _decent…_?”

“Just come in Lance…” Her patience ebbing away as she sat up in bed and switched on a light.

The blue paladin, looking distinctly worse for wear, gently stepped in through the powered doors and sat himself on a chair. He smiled wearily, “You think you’ve got it bad… Try skipping one of Coran’s classes…” His head flopped back in the chair, before he rather unexpectedly added, “Well the haircut looks great…”

Raising a suspicious eyebrow, Pidge hmmmed. “A compliment? From you? _What do you want, Lance_ …?”

“What compliment…?” Lance replied, still staring at the ceiling.

“About the hair…?” Suspicion was now turning to frustration.

“Wait… What? Did I say that out loud…?” Lance looked to Pidge a little sheepishly, “I guess I did huh? Well, I mean it’s true. It…I don’t know, it suits you…? It _really_ suits you… Like…a lot…”

“Uhuh, so we’ve established you’re buttering me up for some reason. Now, what’s your angle, Lance…?”

The honest smile was disarming, “No angle, Pidge. It just…sorta came out… I’m only here to see how you’re doing. Wondering if you managed to get that reality radio working…”

Still unsure, Pidge hugged her legs defensively beneath the blanket, not quite meeting Lance’s gaze. “Alright… I guess I’m as well as could be expected…colder perhaps…” She rubbed at her hair, but then couldn’t help but smile, “But yeah, I totally got it working. I like the name too, so I’m stealing it.”

“No. Way! That’s…man I’m not even sure I know a word good enough to describe it, so I guess awesome will have to do! That’s, _awesome_!” He smiled, laughed, yet somehow managed to softly add, “You’re _so_ awesome, Pidge…”

“I…” Pidge found herself suddenly at a loss for words, “There’s still bugs…to work out…” She stammered.

“Yeah, burning down is a _bit_ of a bug…” He joked, but his concern was obvious, “Is that what’s wrong…?”

“You’re…I’m…” Pidge glared into a corner, far away from his eyes, “I’m just tired I think…But, thanks…?”

His most familiar emotion, feeling puzzled, returned. “Ok…? Well, I’ll just go then…? I’m just glad you’re ok… You… you _are_ ok, right…?”

“Tired.” Pidge repeated. “ _Really_ tired…” The additional statement almost a pleading.

Lance nodded, silently turning to leave. “Just say it!”

“Say…what…?” Pidge responded.

Lance spun on one heel, nearly stumbling into the door, “Wait, did I say that too!? Quiznak…I must be even more tired than I realised… Coran’s a slave driver…”

“What did you expect me to say…?” Pidge’s expression matching his own, puzzled.

“I was…talking to myself…” Lance shrugged, “Just, I wanted to say… If you want to talk later, I’m there…” He turned back to the door, it slid open. “Well, by _there_ I mean down the hallway…but you get what I mean…or if you don’t want to talk, there’s always the Gameflux…but I guess you know that already… Anyway… G’night, Pidge.” As he walked out, the doors already shutting behind him, she heard clear as day, “I also wanted to say you’re _awesome_ … But…I’m never brave enough to say that…”

Pidge was again lost for words, save a very meekly whispered, “O…k…?” Before the door softly closed behind him. “What _was that…_?” Pidge whispered beneath her breath, falling into the bed. “Calm down. He’s just an idiot. Doing what idiots do. Which is to say, idiotic things… That’s all.” As she forced herself to clear her mind, forced herself into what promised to be a restless sleep, she could have sworn she heard Lance muttering over and over again, repeatedly groaning the word “Stupid…” She agreed. Furiously agreed.

 

* * * * * * * *

 

“…and for her lifetime of outstanding contributions to the fields of Chemistry, Biology, Physics, Sociology, Psychology, Mathematics, Computer Science and even Engineering. The creator of The Unified Quintessence Theorem, a mind so brilliant that no life on Earth or our newest extrasolar colonies have been left untouched by her discoveries!” The elderly man at the podium seemed fit to burst, holding back tears of joy. His gravelly tone barely keeping composed. He continued with gusto to the enraptured crowd in the vast auditorium, many of the smartly dressed men and women openly weeping. “And all this, despite her being so young! I can think of no scientist in all of history more deserving of this Nobel Prize!” He holds the trophy aloft, the audience staring at the magnificent accolade. “Ladies and Gentlemen, the one and only Dr Katie Holt!!” The audience stands as one, their cheers and applause ring out through them. The sound is almost deafening, grown men cry out in joy, hands begin to ache as they are clapped so heartily.

Pidge wanders onto the stage casually, waving nonchalantly at the ever more delirious crowd. She’s dressed as she always would be, the crowd applauding even her dress sense, “more concerned with her work than any shallow pretence!” One fan in the crowd screams, “What an inspiration to us all!!” Standing to the podium, she is handed the Nobel Prize, which she holds aloft to the crowd like a championship belt, she has no speech, only a triumphant cry of victory that rings above even the deafening roar of Green, sat in a huge booth at the back. Along the front row of the auditorium, tears streaming down their faces, her family and friends are all clapping the hardest. However, as she looks to each paladin in turn, all looking superb in their finery, she notices one empty seat. One absent figure.

Everything suddenly stops.

There is silence.

The crowd hangs still as though frozen in time.

Pidge stares out into the frozen faces, bewildered. “Well, this isn’t how it usually goes…”

From the opposite side of the stage, the absentee trots on, looking to a gold pocket watch. He’s overdressed even for such a fancy occasion as this. Typical him. All he’s missing is a top hat, and frankly Pidge wouldn’t have been shocked to see one appear. “We’re not going to make the reservation at this rate…” He grumbles, wandering toward the podium, “Ah, never mind, I see we’re here already…”

The podium was the podium no longer. The auditorium was gone in a blink as though it was never there. The sound of a string quartet filled the air. The absentee pulled out what was now a chair for Pidge, allowing her to sit at the transmuted podium. It was now a beautifully laid table in the kind of restaurant where the tableware alone looks to be worth more than most people earn in a year. Coran was apparently their waiter and outside the restaurant, the Red Lion was sat in the parking lot. As Pidge sat, she noticed what she was now suddenly wearing. The kind of dress whose skirt was more of a belt, the kind where your figure is sucked tightly into a form defined not by yourself but by the whims of the dress itself. A very low-cut kind of dress, in a very Un-Pidge bright red. Though it felt like her face was starting to match.

“You look beautiful, my dear!” The absentee took his seat with a theatrical flourish, flashing her a grin so cheesy that it could really be nobody else. Lance offered her a menu. “Nothing is too much for you…”

This was puzzling, Pidge decided. Maybe a cheese induced nightmare. She wasn’t sure having been lightyears from any _real_ cheese for a long while. Hunk had tried of course thanks to Kaltenecker, but his attempts so far had been…mixed. Pidge was certain of one thing though. She had trained herself to have lucid dreams, active dreams over which she usually had complete control. Things could derail for a moment or two, but it wasn’t long before she was back to receiving a Nobel prize, meeting Marie Curie and Ada Lovelace with a time machine, you know, _normal dreams_. This dream was _not normal_. This, despite her every desire to dispel it, was not fading or getting back on track. What she was sure was once a string quartet, had now become a _strong_ quartet, four heavily muscled men playing on string instruments. With their fists. And it still sounded just fine. What the actual quiznak…?

“Is there something amiss, mon petit chou-fleur…?” The menu still in hand, the grin still fixed, “If nothing there is to my darling’s liking, I will have the chef prepare you anything you wish…”

Ok, Pidge thought to herself. I can’t control the surroundings, but I can control myself… She stood from the table to leave, as she turned the world was suddenly a windswept cliff, drenched in glorious sunlight. The breeze carried the scent of spring flowers, and she was now in an equally low cut and figure hugging sun dress, oversized hat and all. At least the dress was green this time. Small mercies. Dressed in a plaid shirt with faded jeans, an energetic little ginger dog with a suspiciously familiar moustache by his side, Lance came running over. The salt and pepper grey about his temples, the slight wrinkles left from an always smiling face, the odd little donut-duster moustache all marking him as an older and distinguished man. He was carrying a wicker picnic basket and smiling with joy.

“Do you remember?” He said, sitting at Pidge’s feet, “This is where you made me the happiest man alive…” She noticed now the wedding band on his finger. The matching gold ring on her own. Panic was settling in, no control still. “We looked over the bay, into the sunset… You told me again how a billion sunsets happen every day on a billion worlds… They were nothing special. With that little ring box, I proved you wrong, didn’t I…?”

“Woof.” The staring, more Altean by the second looking face of the dog stared, _staring_. “Woof I say and Bark also.”

“Here come the kids…” The distant sounding voice of Lance sighed.

Pidge leapt from the dream cliff, only to find herself falling into a frozen tundra. The gooseflesh was understandable, given that her bear and wolf fur armour was more of a bear and wolf fur afterthought, barely covering any part of her. In one hand, an electrified mace hummed with barely contained power, in her other hand a stout steel shield. She uneasily stood to her feet, surveyed the smoky surroundings, saw the trees were ablaze. A terrible roar cut through the parting clouds. Serpentine, undulating, the orange scaled beast came, fire coiling from a fearsome maw and licking at a splendid moustache, great wings beating. “Oh come on!” Pidge shouted, “Are you an eastern dragon or a western dragon!? Make up your mind!”

The non-geographically bound Coran-dragon responded with a blast of white hot flame. Then predictably, almost as though on que, a towering figure stood between her and the beast, protecting them both with a shield plucked from the very bones of dragons. A sword, forged from the very bones of dragons. Indeed, his whole attire was built from fallen dragons, from furious looking helm to overly ornate codpiece. All of his armour and weapons, thrummed with the magic of an ancient power that seemed at once to be within the figure and drawn from the universe itself. With a single leap, the figure brought his enchanted sword through the belly of the dragon, the foul creature dissolving into a shower of light until only it’s bones remained. The warrior turned to Pidge, his helm was carved into the snarling visage of a red lion. He tossed it to the snow, shaking loose long dark hair. Lance, bearded, battle worn, scarred and severe, stared at her with stern yet kind blue eyes. “The Beast is slain. You are safe now, my fair shield maiden...”

Pidge sighed. “This is just all too dumb…”

As she withdrew her face from a full blown double facepalm, the world faded to an empty black. Standing before her, not a warrior, not an older man, not an overdressed idiot, but just the idiot she recognised, Lance. His smile now seemed so empty, his eyes filled with a singular look of resignation, of defeat. She was stood, dressed as she always was, though still the dream wouldn’t bend to her. The only thing here was the two of them and all she wanted was to see his real smile. This one was simply wrong. It didn’t belong on his face.

That same hopeless smile curled again, he walked slowly forward, placing a hand softly to the side of her face. “Not even a smile…? Who am I kidding, right…?” He asked, before placing a soft, chaste kiss upon the top of her head.

The dream faded.

Pidge awoke slowly, not with a start but with a deliberate, slow opening of her eyes. Placing one hand to her cheek, she felt inexplicable tears, already drying. It was late still. She was tired. She hoped for no more dreams tonight.


	3. Such Irritation Is Relaxing

It smelled like a bad morning in the castle. The kind of morning a paladin dreads. A morning without an edible breakfast. A morning where Coran had been allowed to cook. This particular brand of existential dread was bad enough, but Pidge was feeling particularly groggy this morning for another reason. Whilst she hadn’t been subjected to any more dreams, that came at the price of not a great deal of sleep at all. She felt very much like a zombie, from her difficulty walking right down to her low groan. She even imagined a zombie would struggle to see as much as she was doing. The only difference was that instead of an insatiable hunger for brains she was feeling an insatiable hunger for coffee. Given what the castle had chemically created when they tried to explain coffee to the computer, _hunger_ rather than thirst was indeed the correct term. Chewy or not, it did the job and she needed it badly.

The mess hall lived up to its name. Before each of the sullen looking Paladins was a quivering mound of sloppy grey-blue _matter_ that defied most attempts to classify it. The smell in particular was an impossibly bland assault upon the senses, though not vile enough to repulse, easily strange yet suspiciously inoffensive enough to give pause. Shiro offered a half hearted nod of greeting as he chewed, Hunk looked as though he was about to cry as he prodded the goo with a spork. Pidge felt certain the thing had tried to get away, albeit very _very_ slowly. Alura was doing her best to maintain her royal bred sense of polite kindness, eating the _stuff_ through a contorted and pained grin, sounding the most tortured _mmmm_ possible. Coran was already onto his second mound, with a cheery whistle and a spring in his step, he brightly waved at Pidge.

“Good Morning!” His smile felt like an insult to Pidge, “Thank goodness for this nutritious Narblarp, it looks like you all need it! Not been getting enough vitamins I’d imagine, too much slacking off…”

“Caffeine. Goo.” Pidge demanded.

“Right away!” Coran grinned, seemingly oblivious to the suffering he was inflicting or else being wantonly sadistic.

Pidge zombie shuffled to the counter, helping herself to what she had to pretend was a cold glass of OJ, rather than a cold glass of nutrient rich type 5 supplemental drink. She noticed that Lance was tearing into a cylinder of caffeine goo like an animal tearing into flesh. The colour of the goo was at least brown, even if the elasticity was a bit much. She also noticed from his heavy-lidded eyes that he had also slept badly. His Narblarp was untouched. She followed after Coran, desperate for her own tube of chewy caffeine.

“Looks like she slept as badly as I did…” Lance said.

“ _She_ can hear you Lance…” Pidge grumbled to herself, slightly surprised that nobody had responded. They were obviously all too traumatised by their Narblarp.

“That bed head though… So damn cute…” He continued.

“Not in the mood, Lance.” Pidge shot him a withering glare. She found to her surprise that the entire table was staring back at her, “What?”

Shiro, a concerned expression on his face calmly explained, “Pidge, I get that you’re tired…and I get that he’s infuriating…” To which Lance voiced a protest through a mouthful of caffeine goo, “But…Lance didn’t say anything… Are you feeling ok…?”

Pidge looked at them all, especially at Allura and Coran. “ _None of you_ heard him…?” She asked suspiciously, “Not even the aliens with super hearing…?” She shrugged, “Sure, whatever…”

The Paladins slowly returned to their… Meal would be a strong word for it. Pidge, now growing even more impatient, watched as Coran seemed to be more focused on humming an Altean folk tune than he was with her caffeine tube. She started to pace back and forth.

“Why does she never wear skinny jeans? Always those baggy shorts…” Lance’s voice was unmistakable, “I wonder if her butt’s as cute as the rest of her…? _Damn._ Another unsolvable mystery of the universe I guess…”

Pidge had turned instantly red, she was shocked and embarrassed for sure, but that potent embarrassment only fuelled a burning pyre of rage, “WHAT THE QUIZNAK, LANCE!?” She clenched her teeth nearly as hard as her fists. Unseen by a now startled Coran, her freshly formed caffeine tube fell to the counter with a soft plop.

Shiro stood now, slowly stepping into Pidge’s most likely path toward the thoroughly bewildered blue paladin. The rest of the table stared silently, nervously, “Pidge…” Shiro began, only to be cut short.

“You _cannot_ expect me to believe that _none of you_ heard what he just said…!?” Pidge looked around, first furiously then desperately, “Seriously, guys, this isn’t funny…”

“Pidge.” Shiro said firmly, “You need to calm down. You need to go to the medical bay, get yourself checked out.”

Pidge nodded mutely. “I…think you might be right…”

“Good. Allura, would you help Pidge on her way…?” Shiro’s tone steady and firm.

The Princess nodded, slowly guiding the shaken young girl from the room. Lance looked on fearfully, rising for a second only to be gently guided back to his seat by Hunk. The yellow Paladin shook his head.

Shiro breathed a sigh of relief, “Would _anyone_ care to explain…?” He began addressing the table, before clutching at his gut. Between his frozen pale expression of terror and the gurgle from his stomach, it was pretty obvious what was going on. “Coran…?” He said with an icy fury.

“The gurgling means that it’s working!” The merry moustached Altean responded, “You should all be feeling just wonderful in about an hour!” He paused, “Wait a sec…it should be _burbling_ …not gurgling…am I thinking of Nar _blarp_ or Nar _plarb_ …? I sometimes get those two mixed up you see…” He chuckled nervously. “They uh…they _look_ quite similar too…stored quite close to each other…both start with the same letters… Oh Quiznak…”

Hunk, similarly clutching his stomach blurted with a pained groan, “Pretty sure you’ve pulled a stunt like this before Coran! I _begged_ you to stay out of the kitchen…”

“Now now…” Coran cleared his throat, “So far we have nothing to worry about! If this was uncooked Nar _plarb_ then by now I would have started breaking out in little…orange and green…splotches…?”

The table glared at him.

“Oh buckets of quivering Quiznak…” Coran groaned, the orange and green splotches already starting to itch.

“What happens now, Coran!?” Hunk was already beginning to panic, “I feel like I’m going to explode!”

“Calm down!” Coran swayed on his feet, “The good news, is that after about five, ten, thirty hours at most we’ll all be absolutely fine!! I think. The bad news is, those hours are going to be filled with a combination of nausea, fatigue, dizziness, several other possible effects…including but not limited to euphoria, confusion, _loss_ of hair, _gaining_ of hair, hallucinations…and extremely painful…well…” Coran paused. “Gas…”

Lance chuckled “Man am I glad I didn’t even _touch_ this stuff!”

“Yes, yes, good for you…” Coran groaned, a splotch erupting in a puff of blue smoke. “We’re all very happy for your good fortune… Now, everyone else, I suggest we head to bed… And make sure your air purifiers are on _maximum_ … You don’t want to breathe this stuff and you definitely do _not_ want to smell it…”

With the exception of Lance, who took great pleasure in shoving the poisonous mess into the waste disposal, the crew shambled their way back to their cabins. “Ship to myself…” Lance yawned even as he grinned. The previous oddness apparently forgotten or at least placed elsewhere in his mind. “Kinda wish I was more awake for it… Maybe a shower will help…? Oh but first…a _real_ breakfast…”

 

* * * * * * * *

 

Pidge remained silent, thoughtful, reflective. There was a great deal to go over. There was a great deal to be confused about. As soon as her mind moved from one possibility, it shifted to countless more. The Green Paladin looked sheepishly to her side, Allura matching her stride as the two walked further into the castle and toward the medical bay. Pidge could tell, despite her attempts to hide it, that Allura was not feeling well either. Allura had explained the most likely cause and the princess was not at all happy with Coran. Pidge, growing more concerned, “I…should be ok from here… You need rest… I’ll only really need to press a few buttons, _state the nature of the medical emergency_ and I’ll have…something to work with…”

“Of course.” Allura said kindly, chasing a feeling of dizziness away, “I am certain you are as eager as we all are to find the cause of this… Though before I go, I wonder…” The Princess frowned, “No, forgive me, it would be a foolish request I am sure…”

Pidge sighed, “Well you might as well make it anyway, you already _half_ made it…”

Allura seemed tenser now, “It still seems a foolish favour to ask… But when I was younger, back home on Altea…” The word seemed to hang on her lips with a longing sorrow, “When I was stricken by sickness, I would often feel better speaking with my friends and handmaidens. We would make _admittedly frivolous_ commentary, about the styles of our hair, of the subtlest way to wear our facial decoration, of the latest fashions in the royal court and among the citizens… We would chatter about visitors from other stars, the strange, the handsome… We would speak, in hushed tones, of those who had caught our fancy with their bold smiles or kind eyes or…” She smiled knowingly, “…or _broad_ shoulders, _toned_ torsos and _fine_ ears… Though I forget of course that none of these things are of interest to you… So it would be unkind to ask…”

Pidge looked visibly uncomfortable at the idea, but still offered a half-hearted attempt. Despite their differences, Allura was a friend asking for some small comfort, Pidge figured she could at least try. “Well, your hair sure is… _long_ …?” Though even Pidge knew that was practically worthless. “And…ummm…your make up…is there…? And it…works…?” She hung her head, “I’m sorry, I don’t know the first thing about this stuff…”

Allura’s laugh was soft and warm, “That much is clear. But I thank you anyway for trying. Yes Pidge, my hair is quite long and in truth a nightmare to maintain. It would be simpler perhaps to have it shorter, as you are fond of, though I fear I could not _quite_ pull it off as well as you do.”

Pidge frowned, “Not sure about that, Princess… Especially right now. I feel even more like a guy than when I was pretending to _be one_ …” She fussed with what Allura had described as a haircut of pixies, “It’s great that I barely need to do anything with it… But I feel a little exposed… And my ears are a little colder…”

“Pidge, it frames your face well. It allows others to see your lovely eyes better. It is as you are, _atypical_ but still distinctly feminine. You do not look at all like a male human. You are much too pretty to be a male.”

At this, Pidge snorted with laughter. “ _You_ are calling _me_ …pretty…? Huh. Why am _I_ the only one getting checked into the medical bay again…?”

Allura frowned at her, a genuine look of confusion upon her face. “I do not understand your thinking at all. You need not even try and still your complexion is clear, skin soft, eyes shine. You are not simply pretty, Pidge. You are effortlessly so, naturally so…the hours I could save were _I_ so lucky… How do you not realise this?”

Pidge squirmed, looking bashfully away and frowning from uncertainty, “Princess, you’re like some crazy outer space other worldly super model… I appreciate the attempt at confidence boosting, but it’s ok…”

“And would you believe that I do not see myself in such a way? Among my friends on Altea, indeed I often felt quite average…” Allura placed a hand to Pidge’s shoulder, blinking briefly past a fresh wave of dizziness and regaining her composure. “ _We_ don’t get to decide how _others_ see us. Humility is right and noble, but more so is accepting the truth that we _cannot_ see. The truth as told to us _through the eyes of others_. So again, Pidge, I say you are effortlessly pretty. Beautiful even. And let no one, not even yourself, let you believe otherwise.”

Pidge was silent for a long moment, their footsteps the only sound in the quiet corridor. “Thanks…” She breathed, almost whispered, half smiling, “It’s…kind of nice to know you think so…”

“I do. As do others, of that I am certain. Especially when you smile so.” The Princess took a finger and thumb suddenly to the bridge of her nose. “Forgive me, but may we sit a while…?”

Pidge nodded, helping Allura to a jutting section of the wall that served them both as a makeshift bench.

“Are there others whom you would be glad to know see you as beautiful…? Others whose attention might be…longed for?” Allura looked hopefully to her, “If you wish, I could…enquire on your behalf…? Or the mice…they can be quite subtle gatherers of information…”

Pidge shook her head, “Not really comfortable with asking you to spy on people for me…”

“Though you don’t deny that you feel a certain curiosity…?” Allura’s smile grew almost devious.

Pidge cast her mind back to earlier in the day. To last night. To Green’s hangar bay. Was it curiosity that made those certain words trouble her or was it fear? Whatever it was, it was confusing. “I…didn’t exactly say that…”

Allura nodded, “Well then, what for example do you think of Shiro?”

Pidge shrugged, “Well…he’s Shiro…?”

“Of course he is, but I mean… _really_ consider him. His strength, both in body and will. His determination and leadership, perhaps even think of his strong jaw and of his smile…? Could his strong arms not lift you boldly, hold you closely? Would it not be _thrilling_?”

Pidge looked horrified, “Wait, you’re asking if I like him? Like, _like_ him…? Ewwww, no! I mean, yeah he’s not horrible to look at, but he’s _Shiro_ , y’know? _Shiro_! He’s like…Space Dad…” She frowned, “Wait…am I getting it backwards…? You decided you want to be Space Mom…?”

Allura chuckled, “Perhaps I do not seek _that_ precisely, but it is very true that there are many far worse alternatives in the universe...shame about the ears…” She began to laugh harder, “Does he know that you call him Space Dad…?”

Pidge shrugged, laughing nervously. “It’s not just me…”

“Alright, so ‘Space Dad’ is out of the question… What of Keith? His brooding intensity…”

“Emo.” Pidge cut her off, bluntly. “Too Emo.”

“But…is not such _focus_ and _passion_ appealing…?”

“E. Mo.” Pidge rolled her eyes.

“Pidge, you should not disregard a person with a single word… It is still a shameful memory for me to think that I disregarded, shunned and was cruel to such a fine man merely for the circumstances of his birth… You can at least admit he is not unattractive?”

“ _Fine_ …” She huffed, “That’s maybe, _kind of true_ , I guess. But on gut feeling alone, just too emo for me. Personality matters and I’d get bored of the constant brooding. Or the whole, _I must go, Space Ninjas need me_ , thing he’d end up doing all the time… Anyway, it wasn’t me who _went off alone with him_ in a shuttle…” Pidge daringly teased.

“It was not _I_ who left a highly dangerous modification on said shuttle.” Allura - only slightly seriously - glared.

“Ok, ok, subject dropped…!” Pidge was - only slightly seriously – terrified.

“Then if a personality of fun is important to you, I suppose I have discovered your preferred paladin! You have much in common, he is kind and makes you laugh, even understands your technical skills. It is as I suspected! You are much enamoured with Hunk!” Allura seemed to be growing ever more enthusiastic.

“Hunk’s a nice guy, a big teddy bear, great cook, pretty smart… Yeah, he’s a good friend… I just don’t see him that way. Besides, his type is slightly more, y’know, Balmeran. Don’t even joke about me being into a 600 plus year old Altean either. That would just be wrong on so many levels. There’s just no one I’m really into right now I guess… Not that I would even have time…so probably for the best. Sorry, no gossip here...”

“Though I know of bears…What is a _teddy_ bear….?” Allura looked genuinely bewildered.

“It’s a kind of…stuffed animal, from Earth. They’re mainly for kids, to cuddle with, y’know, for comfort…”

“You… _kill_ and _fill_ bears to give the corpses to your children…?”

“No! They’re toys! Fake fur and fabric stuffed with fluff and shaped to _look_ like bears… Not real dead bears…”

“Oh…” Allura still looked a little off put. “Earth children are comforted by creatures that in reality would surely maim and maul them…? Truly, Earth is a strange place…” Before Pidge could interject with a point about Altea’s deadly weather, Allura asked. “Well…what about _Lance_?”

Pidge’s stomach turned a loop, suddenly reminded of all the oddness going on. Maybe just wanting to be distracted from that was why she had humoured Allura’s questions for so long. Talking about boys with a Princess of all things… Next thing she knew, she’d be wearing hot pink and using lipstick…urgh. Noticing that Allura was still awaiting a response, Pidge realised how long her pause had been. “What _about_ Lance…?”

“Well, he obviously enflames _some_ form of passion in you…”

“Passion!? Ha! If by that you mean he irritates me? Sure.” Pidge’s voice raising just a touch.

“Yes, it certainly is true that you seem irritated with him…especially when he _flirts with other women_ …”

Pidge groaned, “He’s completely egotistical! He thinks he can just smile and try some corny pick up line and suddenly the cosmos will swoon for him… I mean, how little respect he gives those women, how little he credits their intelligence if he really thinks they’d fall for that! But saying he thinks is giving him too much credit…”

“Pidge, all of us crave some form of validation and positive attention. Some just crave it far more than others. I don’t think Lance is being completely serious in his attempts…and I’m sure he’d have no idea what to do if it ever really worked… Are you sure you’re not just trying to explain away some _other_ feeling…? Jealousy perhaps? Jealousy of the fact that of all the women in the universe, he has not once attempted that act on you…?”

Pidge frowned intensely, “If he did, I think I’d break his stupid nose…”

Allura’s bright laughter didn’t seem to fit the reaction Pidge was expecting. “Oh! So you are saying that you would prefer he gave you _special treatment_? An approach _unique_ to you…?”

By now, Pidge was barely containing her fury, “You’re twisting my words!”

“Or maybe I’m _un_ twisting them…?” Allura’s smile somewhat reminded Pidge of a cat toying with a mouse, “Well, don’t you at least think he’s handsome? Attractive? _Cute_ …?”

“He’s Lance. An utterly insufferable, completely egomaniacal, half-witted womanizer!”

“I don’t hear a _no-oh_ …!” Allura practically sang as she teased, “If you loathed him as much as you claim, then why are you so often visiting his room, _late at night_ …?”

“He has the Gameflux set up in his room.” Pidge was blunt, matter of fact in that statement. “There was no space in my room anyway but equally no way I was letting him invade my personal space. We both own equal share in the thing, so while he keeps it hooked up to a screen, I still get to use it. Nothing more to it than that. And I’ve always gamed my best at night. Helps me unwind. And I don’t _loathe_ the guy...”

Allura looked thoughtfully to Pidge, “Well, there are other places your set up could have functioned, are there not? Communal places where nobody needed to have their room disturbed…”

“Yeah, well we talked about that. We agreed there would be too many other distractions, too many people wanting a go, watching, being back-seat gamers and given this ship, too much noise and chaos. So we put it somewhere we could game in peace. Like I said, to relax…”

“And, being _alone with Lance_ …despite him being a source of such irritation…is relaxing…?”

Pidge grunted, “C’mon, don’t be so literal. Of course he doesn’t irritate me 24/7! We’re still friends, we hang out, we need to work together on a daily basis, we couldn’t even form Voltron if I completely hated him… And yes, either I’m kicking his ass on a game which I happen to find _very_ therapeutic, or he’ll just do his own thing. He’ll quietly watch me play, or he’ll read, he reads trash but hey, it’s reading… Or maybe he’ll just listen to music… Y’know, he’ll just do whatever and not bug me while I get my game on…”

“And you look forward to these evenings spent together…?”

“Well…yeah… It’s just that…” She looked distant for a moment, “It sounds stupid…but it _sometimes_ kind of feels like…well, like being back on Earth in a way... Like I’m not in a galaxy far far away, I’m safe…just hanging out with a friend…it feels normal… And there’s not really a whole lot of normal going on in my life right now…”

“So, when you are with him, when you two are alone…it feels as though you are _home_ …?” The Princess smiled knowingly, “It sounds very much to me, that he brings you both happiness and contentment. When you are in the middle of a universe at war, surely a man who brings you such peace… It sounds to me like love…”

Pidge fought back a fierce blush, failed utterly, flailing madly, “No! Just no!! He’s just a friend!! F-R-I-E-N-D and that’s it! I do _not_ have a stupid crush on stupid Lance!! That’d be crazy!!”

“I think…the lady…protests too…much…” Allura’s tone was growing steadily more unsteady, she was very clearly getting dizzier now. She looked to her hand, and with a grimace she looked to the small patch of the erupting splotches appearing. “Quiznak…” She breathed fiercely, “Forgive me Pidge, but I must go before this gets any worse…” The Altean princess stood shakily to her feet.

“You…” Pidge was both concerned, yet also distracted by the conversation that was now ending. “You going to need help getting to your room…?”

Allura shook her head, “I will be fine, thank you Pidge. Can I trust you to get yourself checked?”

Pidge nodded, “Yeah, of course you can…”

Allura, wobbling slightly, nodded, “It wasn’t my intent to worry or upset you, Pidge. Perhaps when we are both feeling better… We could talk more…?” Splotches had begun to crop up on her forehead. “I would like that.”

Pidge looked away, unsure, nervous. “Maybe… Yeah, maybe that would be ok…”

“I look forward to it.” And with that, she left. Shaky, unsteady, but keeping the composed and calm demeanour that had been trained in her almost from birth.


	4. Designed To Sell Thermometers

Pidge grew once again silent, thoughtful, reflective. There was a great deal to go over. Perhaps now a great deal more. There was a great deal to be confused about. Perhaps now a great deal more. As soon as her mind moved from one possibility, it shifted to countless more. With every slow step toward the medical bay, she fought away a fresh wave of conflicting thoughts. Once she had made it, her mind still churning, Pidge sat in a daze as the automated systems of the med bay poked, prodded, scanned, tested, questioned, sampled and otherwise examined her extensively. By the end of the process the only diagnosis it offered was tiredness. It offered bed rest or caffeine as treatment, depending on whether or not the patient could afford to rest for a few hours. Pidge opted for a gelatinous tube of caffeine. Chewing despondently on her treatment, she made one last effort with the automatic system, “So there’s no cure for hearing phantom…” She struggled for a term, “…flirting…?”

“Possible cause of auditory hallucinations is most likely the result of severe sleep deprivation. Treatment already recommended. I have no data on human courtship rituals. Good health to you.”

Pidge rolled her eyes, wandering listlessly away from the medical bay and still no closer to an answer. “Alright… So what are my options here…?” She asked to nobody in particular, before perching herself on a window sill, staring out into the slowly shifting starfield. “I’m hearing voices, no, I’m hearing _voice_ singular… The medical system has checked me out and there’s nothing physically wrong… If I was _crazy_ the system probably would have detained me…right…? And if I _was_ crazy, I wouldn’t be able to _ask_ myself if I was crazy…would I…? Or is that just what a crazy person would say…convince themselves they’re sane…”

With a fierce tear into the chewy coffee, Pidge grunted in frustration. “So, without sufficient data I… _might_ be crazy… Great. Ok, so possibility one. Crazy. So maybe let’s see about another possibility. Man-Pidge mentioned something about getting married to _his_ version of Lance... The only remarks I’ve been hearing or _think_ I’m hearing, also Lance. So, perhaps it’s just a lack of sleep…and stupid teenaged hormones getting the better of me…? The idea bugged me, I had that stupid dream, my stupid brain decided to go a little crazy. Probably tipped over the edge by a stupid biological impulse that just decided to randomly show up. I haven’t slept well and now my stupid dream is turning into a stupid daydream about that stupid… _guy_ …” Pidge sighed, placing her head against the window, “So maybe just let off some steam, get some sleep, distract myself… Of course, if that possibility is true…” She rolled her eyes, “Then maybe I really _do_ have a stupid crush on stupid Lance…”

“Nope!” Pidge declared, “Nuh-uh, that is 100% _not it_! That’s Allura putting that in my head! I might be going crazy, fine, but I am _not_ going _that_ crazy… Ok so, _real_ possibility 2… Lance is totally saying all those things and everyone else is covering for him!” Though her expression darkened, “That’s even more stupid. Hunk couldn’t keep that a secret to save his life, Shiro looked genuinely concerned, there’s no way Allura would have done that either… Lance would have given the game away the second he laughed about it…” The frustration grew deeper, she would normally have briskly ruffled her own hair, though there was so little left now it felt pointless. Instead, she took another furious growling bite on her chewable caffeine.

“So what is possibility three…?” Pidge could already feel her synapses firing in useless directions. Galra mind control. Something in the air. Some weird piece… “…of alien technology.” Pidge vocalised her thoughts. “The unshielded PPC…? The reality radio…? But, that just doesn’t make any sense… Unless I’m somehow connecting to other universes…? No, that’s still completely ridiculous… The machine is wrecked. How could I possibly do that without any equipment…?” Her brow furrowed, “Though, now I think about it…the first time I heard Lance saying something…odd…it _was_ in the hangar bay… But I don’t have enough data to confirm or deny _any_ of this… I guess I’ll have to ask Lance, gather more data, form a better hypothesis…”

Suddenly, causing her to leap off the window ledge, Pidge felt her whole body pelted by a sudden sensation of tumbling warmth. Growing used to the feeling, though still extremely confused, she patted at her hair, face, shoulders. The warmth was turning to the distinct feeling of being wet, soaking wet, yet she was bone dry. Her mind leaped onto the idea of cosmic rays permeating the Castle. But that seemed farfetched, there was no way that between the high tech physical and energy shielding she could have suddenly been exposed to cosmic radiation. Something else was bothering her about this sensation, how pleasant it was and how strangely familiar. The intensity of the sensation shifted, from one side of her body to the other and back again. Now she was hearing something. A soft constant hiss from above her, constant splashing from beneath her and a tuneless hum seemingly from within her own mouth. Then there was…the other thing…

She was aware of phantom limb phenomena, the sensation that some amputees reported of still being able to feel their missing limb or limbs. It was a somewhat sad but still fascinating idea. That was the closest thing she could compare this _other_ feeling to. What she was feeling wasn’t really a limb, more of an…appendage. She had also never had one of these to begin with, so this wasn’t really a phantom sensation of a _lost_ …thing but of an all _new_ thing. She’d considered simulating one with a gym sock or two at the galaxy garrison to fool the other cadets but had eventually thought better of it. Gym socks falling out at an inappropriate time would have been difficult to explain. The warm sensation travelled along the length, which felt…strange but pleasant. She could even feel a rapidly accelerating heartbeat through it, as surely as she could feel a savage blush burning on her face.

“Doo do doo, walking _on_ sunshiiiine…” An auditory assault of out of tune howling echoing with awful acoustics filled her senses. “Would be nice to walk with you toooo…” And now his already horribly mangled version of the song was mutating and sprouting new lyrics. Pidge looked around the corridor in desperation, he was nowhere to be seen. Yet she was 100% hearing Lance. “You got me walking on that sunshine, yeah!!! _Cute little you_ …”

“What the actual…?” Quiznak didn’t seem quite strong enough a term right now to Pidge, so she used another far stronger Earth term. “I really am going crazy… Completely and utterly crazy…”

“Why hello, Miss Holt…” At the mention of her name, Pidge’s face, already red enough to pass for a tomato, began to burn even more fiercely than before, “…why _of course_ you can join me… Though we might need to get…very, _very_ close…closer still…” It wasn’t just in her eye that she felt… _twitching_ …

Balling a fist in desperation, Pidge slammed it against a nearby console, “Pidge to Lance!” Her voice clearly unsteady, panicked even, but nothing right now could regain her composure.

The voice that returned through the internal coms was slightly muffled by a familiar hiss and splashing. Lance had answered, audio only. The two noises seemed to be in stereo now. “What the heck!?” Lance shouted back at her, “Kind of in the middle of something here! Can it not wait!?”

Pidge paled. He was in the shower. Warm sensation, splashes, hiss from above. That _other_ feeling. “Quiznak…” Pidge breathed, squirmed, “This can’t be happening… Can’t be happening…”

“Pidge…?” As his tone shifted to one of concern, she felt a sinking in her heart, as though she also was fearful, concerned…worried… “What’s gotten into you today…?”

“Lance.” Pidge struggled to sound calm, “I don’t think I can explain right now, but could you…do you think you could… _please_ …just _stop what you’re doing_ …like, _right now_ …?” She struggled to catch her breath.

“There’s more than one shower, Pidge. Now…if you don’t mind…” He cut off the com channel.

Pidge gritted her teeth, still feeling the warmth of the phantom shower and a swirl, a surge of growing feelings. Confusion, irritation, surprise…and one more overwhelming than the others. The sort of feeling she usually only felt when first resting her eyes on some new piece of unattainable hardware; awe and the maddening ache of desire.

With a deep outward and inward breath, Pidge punched several keys on the panel, then with a flourish over several more. The panel confirmed with a pleasant jingle and friendly Altean runes that the water heating systems were now shut down. A few seconds later, Pidge felt a sharp blast of cold. In the distance, easily audible despite the number of bulkheads that must have separated them, came a howling scream from Lance. The phantom sensations calmed and faded. Pidge leaned heavily against the wall, panting hard and sliding down in a small heap.

“This can’t be real…” She groaned, letting her head fall hard against the cold metal wall. “Ow…” As she regained her breath, calmed herself down as best she could, a familiar voice screeched over the intercom.

“What the hell!?” Lance was furious, “What is _wrong_ with you!? Do you know how cold the water on a _space ship_ can get!? I was practically showering in quiznaking _snow_!! I don’t need frostbite _everywhere_!”

Pidge sighed, “If it was that cold, the pipes would have burst by now. It can’t have been less than 5 degrees centigrade, which is still far enough from freezing…” She rattled off her reply almost mechanically.

“Well _excuse_ my _exaggeration_ , _miss too good for Fahrenheit_!” Lance snorted.

“I told you before, Fahrenheit is a _completely_ _arbitrary_ temperature scale designed to sell thermometers!” She snapped back, “Celsius is based on the average freezing and boiling points of water, it’s much more intuitive!”

“I don’t really want to argue about measuring temperature, Pidge… What you just did was _cold_ in more ways than one, however you measure it…” His words hurt, “I need to know what the heck is going on, _right now_ …”

“That makes two of us…” Pidge sighed, “Could you meet me at the medical bay…? I think you need testing.”

“For what…?” Lance’s tone now positively puzzled.

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t _need the tests_ , would I…?” Pidge forced back her anger, “I know this must seem weird to you, but…do you think you could just trust me, Lance… _please_?”

He was silent for a moment, before adding, his tone hiding hurt, “You know I trust you… I’ll be right there…”

The silence returned. Pidge found herself desperately distracting herself with anything else she could think of. Luckily enough for her, that was hardly a short list of topics. She tore furiously into her coffee.

 

* * * * * * * *

 

“Quiznak!” Pidge was a moment away from screaming, smashing something, tearing something to pieces. Her fists were balled so tight that the knuckles were white. “Quiznaking quiznak! Twelve thousand tons of Quiznak on your _Quiznaking_ diagnosis!! Sleep deprivation!! Argh!!” She was now grasping onto one of the automated medical devices and shaking it vigorously, growling in frustration.

“Shouldn’t you be _glad_ I just need rest…?” Lance queried, “You had me worried…” The blue paladin was sat in a form fitting white t-shirt and faded blue jeans, a pair of blue lion slippers warming his feet and his hair a badly maintained mess. “If you think I’m sick, you should see everyone who ate Coran’s mush…”

Pidge part sighed, and part growled, “Lance, it doesn’t even _begin_ to explain what’s going on! Sleep deprivation would explain if _I_ was just imagining things! Me going _insane_ would explain it as well! If you and I had eaten that stupid Narplarb, maybe _that_ would explain at least some of it…” She sat herself down heavily against the same window outside the medical bay, “I have a hypothesis to explain what’s happening, but I can’t explain _why_ it’s happening… So really, from a scientific standpoint I have nothing at all…” She stared out of the window, trying to focus on the stars but being drawn instead to his goofy smile in the reflection.

“Would it be suicide to tell her she’s cute when she’s angry…?” She heard him say it, but in the reflection his lips didn’t move. “Probably would be…”

Pidge turned to him and let out a long heavy sigh. “Lance, I just heard you ask; _Would it be suicide to tell her she’s cute when she’s angry_?” She paused, “And to answer your question, yes, you’re right, it _probably would be_ …”

Lance simultaneously paled and blushed, completely unable to find a way to respond.

“Either, you said that out loud having become a truly world class ventriloquist…or my crazy hunch is right…”

Lance just turned away. “Pidge, I didn’t _say_ that… It’s true but… Anyway, I’d make a terrible ventriloquist… Tried once, not a pretty sight… Glass of water all over the place… Pidge, I don’t understand what’s going on here…and…I’m a _little_ scared if I’m honest…”

Pidge nodded, placing a hand to his shoulder in a feeble attempt to comfort him. His smile showed he appreciated the attempt, even if it obviously didn’t do much. “I really get that…and I’m going to try to find a way to fix this. First, I need to be 100% sure what’s happening. Maybe then we can start figuring out _why…_ I want you to think of a number. As many digits as you want, concentrate _entirely_ on that number and _nothing else_.”

Lance paused for a moment. “Alright, got it.” Quiet.

Pidge concentrated her own attention on several different topics, moving one to the other in quick succession. Finally, to test her hunch, she focused entirely on Lance. His expression was an awful attempt to hide his feelings. Stupid Lance, stop with the puppy eyes… Still quiet. “Ok, now… Think about _me_ saying the number…”

Lance nodded, immediately Pidge heard the same number repeated, pausing and then starting again over and over in a strangely soft version of her own voice. “Five, Three, One, Eight, Double Zero, Eight.”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Seriously…? 5318008? What are you, six?”

Lance shrugged, but wasn’t able to disguise how uncomfortable this was making him despite his smile.

“Alright, now I’ll think of a number. I’ll focus on _you_ saying it… And you just think about…me…” Pidge shuffled uncomfortably, turning her gaze away. “You just tell me if you hear it…”

Lance nodded silently, though Pidge could hear something more. “She can’t even look at me…”

Pidge shook her head, trying to forget about that hurt tone as soon as she heard it, “You’re not hearing 42 are you?”

Lance shook his head, “Well, that’s just…unfair, right?” He joked nervously, “Looks like this whole mind reading thing only works one way…there goes my privacy…”

Pidge frowned, turning back to the window. Mind reading. That was her hunch. It was completely insane and nothing she put together made sense. No explanation seemed to answer her questions…

“So, it’s got to be some kind of problem with the reality radio, right…?” Lance offered hopefully. “Right…? That’s got to be it…? What else could it be…?”

Pidge shook her head, “Not unless quantum entanglement started to break its own rules… It can’t be that, it doesn’t make sense…” She looked to his concerned features, “ _None of this makes sense_ …”

Lance leaned beside her at the window, “Why do I get the feeling you’ve got more than one _problem_ in mind…?”

Pidge was silent, staring into space, her mind a complete mess of noise, thoughts, feelings, theories all desperately vying for her attention. He wasn’t wrong though. Not wrong at all.

Lance’s mind meanwhile had become a bit of a singular mantra, “Don’t think about Pidge…” He kept telling himself over and over again. “I think I need some time to myself…” Lance said softly, “This is…the whole thing, I just don’t know where to even start…I don’t even want to think about what you’ve overheard me…thinking…”

Pidge felt her mouth turn dry, she struggled to say anything, offering only a mute nothing before turning away again.

“It’s ok…you don’t need to say anything… I’ve lived with my own mind long enough to know that…well, some stuff shouldn’t be said out loud… Guess that explains earlier at breakfast…” Lance’s face scrunched into a grimace, “I must have thought something that _really_ pissed you off… You’ll figure this out. I know you will… But I think right now, I’m just not helping… I’m probably making the whole thing worse… And then out of nowhere, one careless thought and…” He sighed, offering a half hearted smile. “If all else fails…I’ll just think of something else…for like the rest of my life…heck, maybe once we get used to it, it’d be useful…”

His jokes had no effect. Especially considering they seemed to almost feel like serious suggestions.

“Right… Not the time for that…” Lance nodded, walking slowly away. His thoughts still that one repeated mantra.

Pidge just continued to silently stare, a hot stinging at the edges of her tired eyes.


	5. Instrumental About The Flea

Lance always referred to this room as the holodeck, despite Coran’s best efforts to correct him. If anything, the more Coran tried to correct, the more Lance defaulted to his own term. Despite their disagreement on the name, Coran had at least agreed to help Lance get to grips with the place. In his hand, Lance grasped a palm sized smooth object, it looked no different to a time worn stone except for its faint blue inner glow. Coran had explained at length what it was, even offering a jaunty tune of a mnemonic rhyme to help Lance to recall the device’s full name. Lance had shrugged that off and just called it a memory paintbrush, a name that had since stuck. Simple gestures would psychically impel a solid form into the matrix of the chamber. Or as Lance said it, you think of stuff, wave your hand and it appears. That was precisely what he was doing now. Keeping his mind distracted, focused on a task. Taking his free hand over the memory paintbrush, Lance remembered a dandelion and with a motion from the artificial grass, made the seed headed puff-ball on a stalk appear. He could almost fool himself that if he plucked it and blew, the seeds would land elsewhere in the green ocean around him. That they would travel on the wind even as far as the distant mountains and take root. Of course, today he remained all too aware that if he only walked for a few minutes, he could touch the outer wall of the chamber. Regardless of the reality, Lance decided to indulge in that fantasy. To pretend as the seeds scattered, that the wind was more than an illusion, that the warmth of the sunlight was really shining upon him. That this little patch of unreality was really Earth.

Kaltenecker mooed loudly from behind him. “Still here girl…” Lance responded, the cow growing quiet again, seemingly content with his response. He’d learned to make sure to not make objects from thin air in front of their bovine passenger, so he always sat behind her small dwelling. Seeing people create something from nothing freaked her out something fierce. That was also why, despite the almost limitless possibilities this room offered, it needed to remain in one familiar environment to keep the animal, well, sane. Lance sometimes wondered if that was why he came here as well. One time he had made the mistake of asking Pidge how long it would take to travel back home from where they were assuming various versions of fictional Faster Than Light propulsion systems. That had been an unhappy conversation. Even the fastest fictional vessels would only ever see Earth again in several generations, several times great grandchildren would be the ones to return. He had never felt so thankful for Altean Teludav tech, or so fearful of what it’s loss would mean.

Two things he shouldn’t be thinking about, how much he missed the Earth and Pidge. He focused his mind back on his mantra, “Don’t think about Pidge…” Over and over. He dropped back to the grass, resting his head on his plush blue lion slippers and feeling the soft green blades between his toes. Staring into the artificial sky, the clouds above him had all taken the form of an unmistakable face in many different expressions. With a grunt of frustration and a flourish of the memory paintbrush, he waved them back to random little puffs. The wind in the grass was a relaxing sound, but Lance felt something was missing. The kind of thing that made a spring day into a spring day. Bird song. A flock or two might do, a soft melody on the breeze. Absent-mindedly, he wiggled his free hand over the top of the memory paintbrush. He had no idea if it made the process any smoother, any better, but it felt like the correct thing to do sometimes. Like a magician pulling a critter from a hat, the Blue Paladin produced a very distinctive bird. The creature cooed curiously, taking flight before Lance could undo it in frustration.

“That’s a pretty good Rock Dove…” A familiar voice quietly offered, as its owner watched the bird fly away. “So you’ve been practicing…? Guess you do have your own projects after all…”

Lance said nothing in response, only intensifying his mantra and staring at the sky.

“You should realise that strictly speaking, thinking _don’t think of Pidge_ over and over and _over_ again _…_ It’s a _little_ self-defeating. Cause it’s thinking of me. By name. It’s pretty much all I’ve been hearing for the past few hours…” She sat herself a few feet away from him on the grass, quietly awaiting a response.

Lance turned a weary head to her, yet another falsified smile on his lips. “Can’t even get leaving you alone right…” He tried instead to focus on a repetitive tune he had once heard about a small flea from Spain.

Pidge shook her head, “Even if you hadn’t been saying that on repeat… It’s not like I could concentrate on anything else... I tried, really did try…” She smiled, or at least that was her intention. The swarm of angry butterflies in her stomach must have been pulling a few muscles, as all she could manage was a shaky half grin.

Lance, just kept right on thinking of the tune for the small Spaniard flightless insect. He began staring at a cloud.

“You were right. I’m not focusing all my attention on the one problem… I _can’t._ How can I, when there’s something else just consuming every other thought…?” With a cautious half wiggle, half shuffle and now entirely convinced the ground might swallow her at any moment, she edged a little bit closer. “I…uh…” She fell silent.

Lance focused even more on the instrumental about the flea.

“That song is _really_ annoying, Lance.” Pidge sighed, before adding softly “Lance, we _need_ to talk about…this…”

He closed his eyes slowly, letting out a long slow breath as he placed the memory paintbrush to one side. “Alright, Pidge… What exactly is _this_ that we need to talk about…?”

“You know… _this_ …” Pidge squirmed, fighting her urge to just flee. “The whole…I mean…” She began to tremble, “Oh, quiznak this!” She snapped, scrambling to close the distance between them and staring down at Lance, “You know exactly what I’m talking about! This!” She gestured rapidly between the two of them, prodding him in the chest for emphasis, “You. Me. Us. _This._ Your…your _thoughts_ …” She began to falter, “I mean, what the hell, Lance? What else could I possibly mean…?”

Lance just tried his best to focus on the flea song again, on staring at the sky on _anything_.

Pidge grabbed him hard by the shoulders, wrestling him upright and forcing his gaze to meet hers. For a long moment of shared silence she could only think of the unspoken sadness in those soulful sapphire eyes. “I can’t even think straight, Lance. Every time I try to focus on what’s causing this…all I can think of are the things I overheard in your mind! I can’t make sense of it! Apparently, I’m cute when I geek out, cute when I’m angry, cute with a bed head, heck, you said _all of me is cute_ and you want to know if my _butt_ is cute too! You call me awesome, twice. You…well…your…what you were about to do in _the shower_ …” Pidge could hardly breathe as she listed off all she could recall, growing more embarrassed, blushing more profusely, “I think we even shared a dream together…”

Lance couldn’t hold her gaze, looking away with an obvious flush to his cheeks.

“A dinner date, a picnic on a cliff top, fighting a dragon. _Who am I kidding_ you said, looking at me as though your whole _world_ was collapsing. _Any_ _of that sound familiar, Lance_? Any of that sound like something we _need_ to talk about before it drives me crazy…? I mean, where did all this even come from…? It’s so _sudden_ …” Pidge’s eyes began to sting again.

Lance finally found a small morsel of courage, to look back into her eyes, deciding to say anything before he gave himself the chance to think it or try to lie about it. “There’s no point denying it, is there? You’ll probably just see it in my head anyway. It’s _not_ sudden, Pidge. This isn’t a _new_ thing for me, I didn’t wake up feeling this way out of the blue. First day I met you at the Galaxy Garrison and every time you found a way to avoid Me and Hunk… Maybe it just bugged me that I couldn’t even get my own team mate to hang out… But that wasn’t all of it…”

Confusion filled her features. “First day you met me…?”

“I know what you’re thinking.” Lance said, “I thought the same thing. What the heck was going on, why was I suddenly fixated on this new cadet? Why the heck did I think this _guy_ with the bizarre name was so _interesting_ , why was I thinking of him so much that I…couldn’t sleep…? Why was I trying to find more and more ways just to spend time with him…? I couldn’t _tell_ anyone, I had no idea how they’d react. So I just kept quiet, just content to try and be his bud. I got a handle on it all, everything was fine. I had a…” He paused, “I had a _crush_ on a cute _guy_ , no big deal, right? It all worked out… Except it just didn’t. The more I got to know him, the more I couldn’t stop wanting to know more. All I got in return was his sarcasm, his razor wit, moments trying to tell myself his eyes weren’t _amazing_ and all the _quiznaking_ confusion… I’d find myself following this cadet anywhere, even to the kind of danger I’d never thought was possible. There he was, this little mystery who was driving me nuts. There _you_ were on the rooftop, staring up at me from some interplanetary radio gizmo, about to change my life forever…”

Pidge silently placed a reassuring hand on Lance’s. “It’s ok, I’m listening…”

“Well of course, _he_ was just a disguise. Just a con job to keep yourself in the Garrison. Of course, I didn’t know what the heck I was supposed to do with that information once I found out. I guess I just decided it’d be easier to keep it all to myself… I couldn’t make any sense of what I was feeling, but you were becoming one of my closest friends by that point… I guess, it just made sense to not…rock the boat…” Lance grew silent, and although he desperately fought to hide this thought, it surfaced anyway. “You’re so far out of my league it’s not even funny…”

Pidge blinked in astonishment, feeling as though she needed to reset her brain, “ _I’m_ out of _you_ r league…?” Pidge shook her head, “That’s bull! I’ve watched you put the moves on more gorgeous aliens than I _want_ to remember, probably countless more that you _don’t_ feel like bragging about as well! You were _obsessed_ with an Alien _Princess_ for crying out loud! How can _me_ being out of whatever league you think _you’re_ in make sense…!?”

Lance laughed, “Wow, I really thought you of all people would see right through that…” He shook his head in resignation, “Pidge, I know I’m not going to end up with some alien royalty or a mermaid or whatever crazy species we end up finding on our next mission. I know we’ll be there for days, maybe weeks at most. But whilst I’m there, before they really know _me_ , I get to play as Lance, the Blue Paladin. Lance, the hero of the Galaxy, hero of the entire freaking universe. Lance, sharpshooter extraordinaire. Lance, the right hand of Voltron. But of course, it can’t last… It won’t be long before they see through it all… That’s fine. It’s fun while it lasts… Hell, Allura saw through it in seconds… But when I can, I let myself get swept up in it. Truth is, I’m just Lance the unbelievably lucky, Lance the screw up, Lance the goofball, Lance the idiot… Lance, just filling a space in whatever lion will take him, until a more worthy Paladin shows up. Or _comes back_ …”

Pidge stared at him in shock, in slowly smouldering yet currently invisible anger.

“Of course, you’re out of my league Pidge, you know the _real_ Lance… The Lance behind the act. The scared kid who’s just hoping his luck will hold out long enough to see his home again… Someone would have to be pretty stupid to settle for me… And you’re probably one of the smartest people in the whole universe…”

“Well…” Pidge frowned, “Thanks for being so _thoughtful_ as to make all those choices on my behalf… Even assuming I _believed_ that people can just be ranked into some arbitrary league system, doesn’t my own input matter in determining who _I_ think is good enough for _me_ …? But no, _noble Lanc_ e decided to take that burden of choice away from me!” Her sarcasm was tinged with spite, “And another thing, all of this Galaxy Garrison stuff? That may not be sudden to _you_ , how could it be? You’ve apparently had a long while to get used to it…but for me, this is all brand new data! I’m struggling to even _process_ the idea that you liked me, y’know, really _liked me_ regardless of you thinking I was a guy or not… Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s a pretty big deal, right? I’m allowed to think that’s a big deal? Right?” Catching her breath, failing to hold back the anger, she continued, words pouring out without a moment to consider them, let alone reconsider them.

“What did you say you were…?” Pidge was nearly trembling, “Oh that’s right! You were _fixated_ on this cute new recruit, this guy with the _amazing_ eyes. _Fixated on me_. Not able to sleep, because of _me_. You were interested enough in _me_ that you were questioning if you had started liking guys too. Just what the hell am I _supposed_ to say to all of that!? Do you expect; Well gosh and golly gee Lance, the fact you were so into me that _I made you question your sexuality_ sure is interesting, but _let’s never speak of it again_ …!? And then what? Do I just keep standing back, watching you throw yourself at the next creature that flutters whatever passes for its eyelashes and wiggles whatever passes for its hips at you? Yeah, I’ll just keep right on doing that. Not like it ever _bugged me_ before, right? I’ll just keep ignoring and _denying_ my stupid petty jealousy, right? I’ll just keep letting you do that to me _and_ to yourself, right? Even though I now _know_ it’s all just an act that you’re doing in the name of some screwed up form of _self defeat_ , I’ll just let you keep at it, right? Sure Lance, sure. That all seems perfectly _quiznaking_ reasonable!”

Lance was mute. Seeing Pidge’s eyes wavering behind angry unshed tears made him turn away from her in shame.

“You’re right about something, Lance. You really are an idiot if you think so little of yourself...” Pidge was seething, lifting her glasses and wiping away the tears before they could come. “You have proven, time and time again exactly how worthy a Paladin you are. You aren’t just _playing_ at being the Blue Paladin, not just pretending to be a hero of the universe, you _are_ those things and so much more.” Fury in her eyes, she forced Lance to look at her with a firm grip to his chin, “You have _saved my life_. You have saved our whole team. You _earned_ _Red’s respect,_ not his pity! If you just focused on and realised who you _are_ rather than trying to be something or someone you _aren’t_ then you’d know just what a load of bull that self-defeating crap is!”

Lance started to back away, only to have Pidge knock his arms from under him.

“Not a chance!” She pinned him to the floor in a single swift motion, “You’re going to listen now, Lance. I _do_ know the real you. That’s something else you got right. I know the person behind all the bravado, behind all the bluster, behind all the ego boosting attempts to hit on everything with a pulse! And that Lance, if he ever showed himself, wouldn’t _need_ all the stupid boasts, wouldn’t _need_ to put on a show! My friend, the Lance that I know is someone who has so much kindness, so much heart that he’d risk everything for the people he cares for. He’s always there for his friends, always someone to be relied upon when things get rough. The Lance I know sometimes knows me better than I know myself, he can make me laugh even at my lowest… The Lance I know doesn’t need _luck_ to get home, because he’ll make _sure_ we all get there together or die trying. The Lance I know doesn’t have a damn clue about just how utterly amazing a person he is, and that is one of the _many_ reasons he infuriates me!”

“Pidge…” Lance tried to speak and failed.

“No!” Pidge was practically bellowing now, “The Lance I know doesn’t deserve to feel that way about himself and I won’t hear him put himself down like that any longer! And if you think that it’s _stupid_ for someone to care about the real Lance, then you can just call me the biggest moron in the multiverse, because I freaking _adore you_!” Her own words caught her off guard, snapping her out of the anger in an instant. She was staring into the beautiful and bewildered eyes of the boy pinned beneath her, she could barely believe it herself. Though she knew from the moment she had admitted it, that it was true, “Lance…I adore you…”

Lance could hardly speak, barely breathe. Staring up at her, her words still ringing in his ears, his puzzled mind spoke on his behalf, “I want to kiss you _so badly_ …” Realising his careless thought, Lance blushed fiercely.

Pidge paused, gently shifting her weight to release Lance. With the slightest whisper of nervousness, the gentlest touch of red to her face, she asked, “Well…what’s stopping you…?”

“Are you going to shout some more if I don’t…?” Lance attempted the feeble joke as he raised himself to a more comfortable sitting position. “That’s like the most aggressive way anyone has ever said I was awesome…”

“Shut up, Lance…” Pidge grasped onto his shirt, pulling the two of them together, their eyes closing tight and their hearts racing in time. Rather than the expected rush of adrenaline, the gentle touch of lips together, their chins collided hard. Opening her eyes again, Pidge found the tip of her nose firmly lodged in Lance’s left nostril. Even from this odd angle, she could see his smirk. Pidge scrambled away, turning her back and curling up into a tight ball of embarrassment, face practically ablaze, softly moaning “Quuizznaaak… That was _not_ how I wanted that to go!!”

“Can’t fault the feeling behind it, but the technique…” Lance’s soft tone soothing her a little, his arm about her shoulders making her heart skip a rhythm. “You know Pidge, you would have made a really cute hedgehog… But I think you should come out of there and try again…I’d really like that…” Only the merest waver in his tone showed that he was battling his own nervousness.

“I’d rather be a pangolin…” Pidge’s muffled response came. “Or an armadillo…” She began to stammer as Lance lifted her chin, slowly unfurling her from the defensive position, “They don’t curl up, but there’s also the duck billed platypus… That’d be cool too… You know they…sweat milk…and… Monotreme…? Venomous spines…?” Her facts fell to pieces and she became momentarily silent in his adoring gaze. “I’m…rambling…when I should be…”

Lance smiled, leaning in and softly placing a gentle finger to her lips before Pidge could utter another syllable, “When _we_ should be kissing…” He caressed the stunned girl’s face with utmost tenderness. “It’s not like you’re the only nervous one here… You should feel my heart… Feels like it’s about to burst…”

That little admission prompted her to place a hand to his firm chest, feeling the warmth and the steady thrum of his heart through the soft fabric. “So it does…” Pidge felt a little calmer, just knowing he was almost as nervous as she.

Lance placed his own hand over hers, offering a reassuring squeeze, “If it makes you feel better… This is…” He sighed, blushed, “Well, it’s _going_ to be my…first _real_ …kiss… So I don’t really want to screw it up either…”

“Honestly Lance…and in the kindest possible way…that doesn’t completely shock me…” Pidge teased, “And I’m sorry to say…but some moron in the first grade _stole_ my first… Don’t even remember his stupid name…” Pidge grumbled, “I was just sat quietly working away and he barrels over into me and just does it…”

Lance laughed softly, “So what’d you do…?”

“I broke his jaw. Shattered actually…” She responded casually, “Wasn’t the kiss that bothered me, not at the time…Whilst he was slopping his sticky face on me, he’d stepped on my laptop. Nothing could be salvaged… So, I used my poor destroyed buddy as a club. Lil Lappy’s silicon soul could rest in virtual Valhalla knowing that he was avenged… I got suspended for a week… And on reflection, it was not my _proudest_ moment…”

“So, you were even kicking ass as a kid.” Lance let more of his tension dissolve as they both laughed.

“I shouldn’t be laughing…he was off school for months…” Pidge sighed, “Like I said, the kiss didn’t bother me then… But right now…” She blushed harder, “Right now…I wish my first could have been with you…”

Even if his mind wasn’t an open book, there was no disguising Lance’s reaction of stunned amazement. “Ok… Wow… Well…I want that too, Pidge… So how about we just call those two a warm up…? Let’s forget about the nose wrestle, forget about the kid you maimed… Let’s call the _next_ one our _real_ first, ok…?”

Pidge nodded. “Ok…” She almost squeaked. Her heart was pounding in her ears, she could still feel the warmth of his chest and of his words, his lingering gaze, brilliant blue eyes filled with tender, reassuring kindness. Filled with the promise of hope. “So, if I…I g-go left and you…go r-right…?”

Lance brought himself close enough that she could feel his gentle breath on her cheek. He ran a trailing finger around the edge of one ear, the sensation sending a warm shiver through her. He gently guided her closer still, his eyes not once leaving hers. With a gentle movement, he lifted and perched Pidge’s glasses over her brow, letting his hand come to rest in the fibres of her soft hair.

Pidge couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t help herself resting her head into his palm, her every tension fading with his delicate touch. She wasn’t even sure if she was breathing, but she could feel both their hearts race. What he said was cheesy, Pidge couldn’t deny it. But it _worked_ all the same. It filled her chest with warmth. It worked all the more because he said it _without_ thinking. It wasn’t a line. It was just him. Utterly hopelessly adorable him.

“You really do have the most beautiful eyes in the universe…” The breath of the words warming her face. He finally touched his lips to hers, and they each pressed themselves deeper into the moment. Their arms found their way around each other, Pidge’s exploring hand running a trail of sensation up Lance’s neck, fingers grasping and tangling into his hair. She pulled him in deeper, and with a surge of passion, teased his mouth open, the kiss turning to something far more intense. A flutter of momentary surprise from Lance almost instantly gave way to blissful surrender. Nothing else mattered but that shared experience, an overflowing surge of sensation, Lance falling to the grass beneath her and Pidge’s passion not relenting.

It was only as a meek thought from Lance whimpered, “I hate the fact I need to breathe…” That Pidge, only realising now she was also breathless, reluctantly pulled away from the prone paladin beneath her, slowly unwrapping from their embrace. As she brushed herself off, readjusted her glasses, tried to ignore the heat in her cheeks, the drum of her heart, she noticed that Lance was flashing her a very pleased-with-everything looking grin.

“You didn’t have to _stop_ … Just give me chance to catch a breath once in a while… Don’t get so lost in your work…” He laughed, “Though I guess what they say about the quiet ones is true…”

Pidge poked him playfully in the ribs, “You’re just lucky that you’re cute…”

“It _does_ let me get away with a lot…” Lance rubbed his chin thoughtfully, though his scheme to pounce on Pidge and mercilessly tickle her was rendered pointless, he realised with a sigh. “How am I ever going to surprise you if you can still hear what I’m thinking though…?”

“I’m not ticklish anyway.” Pidge lied. Badly. The look of fear gave it away, she could tell by Lance’s evil, plotting grin. She had almost forgotten about the predicament they were in. Forgot about the war, the millions if not trillions of lightyears between her and home, all the chaos and hardship. It seemed insane that a few moments in his arms could do that. Insane and wonderful. “Wish we could just stay right here… Just cuddling…” She smiled at the thought, smiled at Lance. His expression was…puzzled.

“I’d really like that too… But…did you just say that without moving your lips…?”

Pidge stared back at him, a slight peep of shock escaping her. Oh quiznak. She concentrated on thinking, “So are you hearing _this_ as well…?”

Lance nodded. “Huh. Weird… You still hearing me…?” He grinned, thinking, “Just _cuddling,_ huh _…?_ ”

Pidge’s blush confirmed he was heard. She suddenly realised that _every single thing_ she thought could suddenly be scrutinised by Lance. And she was _always_ thinking. And now, precisely because she knew she mustn’t, all she was thinking about was Lance. It felt like a hundred little thoughts all just bubbling into a single mess of goofy grins, sparkling eyes, his scent, the taste of his lips, his hands on her skin, his toned physique, how easily his shirt could just be peeled off, torn off… _Just cuddling, huh…?_ Her blush deepened as his mischievous smile broadened.

“Well, Pidge…!” He mocked shock, “Wow… They really _are_ right about the quiet ones…”

“Shut up!” She burned from ears to toes, “How the heck did this get _worse_!?”

Lance shrugged, “I don’t know about _worse_ … Now I’m not the only one with no privacy…”

Pidge sighed, “Alright, sure, have your fun… But what you don’t seem to realise is that if _you’re_ hearing _me_ now, that means this thing, whatever this thing is, is getting _worse_ …” She paused, but realised quickly it was pointless to hide anything, “Earlier, that whole shower thing. I ended up feeling the water at the same time you were feeling it… My guess was that it was the result of your rather… _singular focus_ …on me…at the time…”

Lance grinned, winked. “Singular focus. That’s _one_ way to put it…”

“Please _try_ to take this seriously, Lance…” Pidge groaned, “Look, we could end up with our nervous systems permanently connected. You wouldn’t be able to tell what _you_ were feeling, what _I_ was feeling…”

“That sounds like it could be fun… I mean just imagine, me kissing you. It’d feel like I was me but also you, kissing me kissing you but also me and then you and I guess at some point it’d just go all over again…”

“That is _not_ taking it seriously! An infinite feedback loop of us kissing might sound…ok fine I admit it sounds pretty amazing, but on a more terrifying note, we might end up as a binary creature with a singular gestalt consciousness!!” She reminded herself who she was talking to, “A single mind split over two bodies!”

Lance shrugged, “Sounds like an old married couple.” He raised a finger, “And yes, I know, _take this seriously Lance_. But I’m not worried. Why would I be? I know for a fact that my ridiculously cute and apparently _feisty_ new girlfriend is also a super genius. She’ll have us back to normal in no time.”

Pidge couldn’t help but smile, “I don’t _remember_ agreeing that we were at the boyfriend girlfriend stage…”

“Well I’m not hearing you say we _aren’t_ …” Lance insisted. “So that sounds like a definite possible maybe…?”

“ _Maybe_ you should let me focus a little on stopping our minds from merging. _Maybe_ after that, we can decide on our relationship status?” Though despite it all, he still made her laugh.

“And there was me thinking you trying to pull my face off at the lips had decided our relationship status… Or was it the nose up the nose? I think Coran told me that some species consider that a deeply romantic act…”

Pidge elbowed him a little too hard in the ribs as they stood up. “We’re forgetting that happened, remember? Our first kiss was…the…good one…”

“Just good…? I thought it was awesome…”

Pidge simply nodded, “Fine… It totally was…”

“Well if kissing the handsome prince didn’t break the spell…what now?”

“Medical again. Now I’m thinking a little clearer, I’m pretty sure there’s a technicality we have to work around… Oh, and it’s more like the frog _became_ a handsome prince…and thank goodness he did…”

“Awwww. I’m not sure if I should be insulted or touched, Pidge…”

Pidge linked her arm with his and softly took his hand. She looked up to him, realising she was either going to have to get used to tiptoeing every time they kiss or get stilts. “Yeah, and I don’t know if I should be having second thoughts…” Lance ran his hand over the back of her head, slightly bending down and tenderly kissing her. “Well, I’m still not sure, but the kiss was nice…”

“Even if it means a little neck-ache…” Lance reassured her with a smile, “Nothing will keep me from those lips…”

There it was again. Cheesy, but utterly honest, said without a moment’s thought. So very much him…

Arm in arm, the two made their way out of what Lance called the holodeck, Kaltenecker mooing for attention as they passed. Pidge rubbed the beast gently on her snout, Lance decided instead on antics.

“Now now…” He placed his head to the confused cow’s in a single armed hug, “There’s no need for jealousy, girl. Just because I love Pidge, that doesn’t mean you’re any less of a special girl to me.” He tunelessly crooned, “And Iiiiiii-eeee-Iiiiii will _always_ miiiiiilk yoOOoooou!”

“Your singing is animal abuse!” Pidge pulled him along, breaking up the shrill yet tender moment between man and cow. It may have been sweet, funny in the goofy way that only he could manage to make work, but she was eager to finally get some answers about their condition. At least she’d be able to focus a _little_ better now. Or had she just replaced one form of Lance based distraction with an even worse one? “Oh, and by the way, Lance… Just because you _what_ me…?” Pidge asked, her face unable to stop smiling.

Lance thought back, “Like. You know, as in _like_ like. Y’know…Like… Isn’t that what I said…?”

Pidge just rested her head against his arm as they left.

Where the memory paintbrush had been placed, a circle of flowers had begun to grow.


	6. Lance Isn’t Technically Wrong

Uncooked Narplarb was notoriously awful for almost all species to consume, but the effects varied wildly in severity from species to species and individual to individual. On the distant world of Veifgir a banquet held to honour the ruling Galra had been laced with the Narplarb toxin. The least affected of the leadership still suffered a day utterly debilitated whilst others were even left totally furless. Still more acted, for lack of a better term, high as kites. When the Veifgiri resistance stormed the Galra citadel, many of their formerly tyrannical rulers had become as placid as fat house cats, making their overthrow and imprisonment all the easier. For centuries among the druidic tribes of the Skadala, the uncooked Narplarb was used to induce a vision quest for its youth during a coming of age ritual. For Hunk, the yellow Paladin of Voltron, Narplarb had forced him to feel a truly terrible thing. The feeling of losing his appetite. No worse fate could befall such a connoisseur of the universal smorgasbord. Sadly, the hallucinogenic effect of the Narplarb had convinced Hunk’s sickened mind that his appetite could be found again. His delirium led him to believe the appetite was a small pink and purple furry creature that skittered along on eight short pudgy little legs. So, armed with only a net he had fashioned from his bedsheets, Hunk was hunting for his appetite.

Around the bend of the corridor, Hunk began to hear footsteps, quiet chatter and laughter. He paused, listened carefully to the sound. Four feet, he realised, coming closer. The appetite must be walking on it’s hind legs, Hunk reasoned. This was his chance to catch it off guard. He lowered himself, ready to spring into action. With a sudden stride, he burst into full speed. His war cry filled the air, his net was hurled as he turned the corner. It fell a few feet short of his target. A bewildered couple looked to his net, then to him.

“You ok, Hunk…?” The cautious and oddly familiar voice of one ventured. Hunk wasn’t stupid though. He knew a hallucination when he saw one. Large wooden sticks after all, could not talk and look at things. They certainly couldn’t talk with the voice of his buddy Lance. So, he ignored the question, turning his attention instead to the upright purple squid in a black bowler hat. The curious cephalopod seemed to scrutinise hunk with yellow dish-like eyes. Four of its tentacles were nestled in sparkling curly-toed golden slippers. Hunk was pretty sure the correct name for them was either poulaines or potpourri. Either way, it explained the footsteps. One of the squid’s tentacles was wrapped around the sturdy wooden stick and suddenly it all clicked. Clearly that was his magical staff and this squid was no mere squid, but a squid wizard. A Squizard, if you will.

“Mighty Squizard!” Hunk declared, “Forgive this Paladin for his transgression! I humbly beseech thee, can you with your sea-born magics, guide me to my wandering appetite…?”

The Squizard was silent, the magical staff however began to quietly snicker to itself.

“Shut up, Branch!” Hunk snapped at the staff, “Nobody’s talking to you!”

Now it was the Squizard’s turn to laugh. “Hunk.” It said to him gently, “I’m pretty sure that you’re still sick from the Narplarb. I think you should maybe go back to sleep.”

Hunk shook his head, “No, Mighty Squizard. Even if you use the voice of my friend, Lady Holt, I will not be stopped in my quest! Not until I have once more found my appetite…”

The staff seemed to lean against the Squizard, “So he thinks you’re a _lady…_?”

The Squizard slapped the staff with a free tentacle. “Well he thinks _you’re_ a twig, _Branch_ …”

“If the mighty Squizard cannot help me, then I must away…” Hunk began to walk off, only to have the staff tap him on the shoulder, holding him in place with invisible magical force that felt suspiciously like a hand. “Gamelon’s Ghoulish Grasp!!” Hunk gasped, “You’re obviously a high level Squizard…”

“Hunk, I don’t even know what a Squizard _is…._ ” The tone of the obviously confused Squizard stated firmly, “You’re sick, I’m Pidge, this is Lance, please go get some sleep…”

Hunk rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “Pretty sure Pidge would have told me if she was a Squizard. Pretty sure I would have noticed. Not falling for it. Besides, I know your magic staff is only _pretending_ to talk like Lance… Now, can you help me find my appetite or not…?”

The two fell silent, moving about as though exchanging a silent conversation. The Squizard seemed to sigh, it’s entire body undulating with the outward breath. “You cannot be serious!” It hissed to the staff, “I _won’t_ feed this obvious delusion!” It fell silent again, “Alright, fine… _I already said fine_ , just tell me what to say…”

The Squizard turned back to Hunk, clearing it’s _throat_? “Hear me noble…” It began in a droning monotone, before the staff seemed to shove it again, “Alright! Cheesy and hammy!” It hissed. “Hear me!!” The Squizard boomed theatrically, “Noble yellow Paladin of the mighty star lions of legend!! I say unto thee that your quest is now at an end! The appetite which you seek has been _within you all along_!”

Hunk went silent, carefully considering the words.

The staff was struggling not to laugh, whilst the Squizard, clearly growing more irritated, sighed again. “There we go. I told you that wasn’t going to work…”

“I know Hunk. Just wait for it…”

Hunk’s eyes lit up. “You’re right! I can’t believe I didn’t see it before! Thank you, magical sea creature!” Hunk turned, whistling happily, only to come face to face with the nemesis that had been tracking him down since the day he had ventured from the village of Hunksroom. “The Cursed Carrot of Calamity…!” Hunk breathed in fear as malevolent glowing yellow eyes glared at him from that dreaded orange form. Bushy green leaves for its hair swayed. Even bushier green leaves for a splendid swaying moustache that wobbled and waved with every word.

“Got’cha now, Hunk!” The Carrot exclaimed, a jet of pink mist blasting Hunk in the face. He began to feel woozy, dizzy, sleepy. “You two, grab his blanket, help me wrap him up before he wakes up!” Hunk fell asleep, his blanket tied around him as he began to loudly snore. Placing the sedative spray to his belt, Coran breathed a sigh of relief, his splotch riddled face sweating heavily. “Thank the stars you two got to him before he really hurt himself… I’ve been chasing him halfway round the whole castle! Never seen the hallucinations get this bad…human biology, that’s what it is. Not cut out for…well…being accidentally poisoned… Ahem…”

Pidge, still ensuring the knot was as tight as she could manage nodded, “It’s ok Coran… Do you need help getting him back to his room…?” She looked to Lance, “Yes, we _are_ both volunteering…”

“My thanks, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Gas can actually be pretty toxic itself, no sense risking your own exposure to this nonsense…” Coran grasped the bundle of Hunk and slung it over his shoulders, “Blimey, that’s got a bit of heft to it…” Suddenly, his nostrils flared. He suspiciously eyed Lance, Pidge, Lance again then once more Pidge. He sniffed in deeply, wandered slightly closer and sniffed again. Coming dangerously close to violating personal space, he sniffed each of them so deeply that they felt sure their hair was lifting to his moustache. He smiled, “Hmmmm… Oooooh, I _see_ … Not _entirely_ unexpected. Must deal with that later. Well, I’ll be off then, cheerio _both of you_ …” He practically skipped off, whistling an upbeat tune.

“And what do you suppose _that_ was about…?” Lance asked, gently taking Pidge by the arm and hand again. He smiled to himself just knowing that he was _allowed_ to do that now. Or at least he assumed he was. Quiznak, what if he wasn’t…?

Hearing his thoughts, Pidge squeezed his hand reassuringly, the two wandered to a nearby elevator. “If you weren’t allowed to, I would have made it very clear by now…”

The door slid open, Lance stepping in enough to hold the door. “Alright…and how about this…?” In a single fluid motion, she was held in his arms, pressing close to him. He leaned in and now growing far more familiar with that telling motion, she shared another tender kiss with this insufferable yet adorable boy.

“Same rules apply…” Pidge pulled him close again, shuffling into the elevator carriage. The doors whirred shut, and she didn’t feel entirely content with just a simple kiss on the lips. Of course, she realised too late that she was thinking that. Distracted, she didn’t notice Lance thinking about and then acting on running his fingers in a broad zig zagging motion over the holographic runes for each of the floors.

Advancing slowly, he gently grasped the softly breathing Pidge, lifting her easily up into his arms and sitting her down again on a sturdy hand rail, keeping his arms firmly yet gently against her waist. “So this is what it feels like to be the shorter one…?” He teased, looking longingly up at her, “I could get used to it…”

Pidge smirked, “You realise that you’re not in as strong a position as you think you are, right…?” With a slight shuffle, she freed one leg and then the other, pulling him toward her in what could only be described as a loving leg lock. Her arms followed around his shoulders, the lift briefly announcing the next floor before the door whirred open then closed again. “See? Trapped.”

“You assume this wasn’t my plan all along…” Lance’s fingertips trailed down her cheek, to her neck, back upward to the soft hairs at the edge between the two, there they playfully ruffled, stroked, grasped. He couldn’t think now, all he could hear were her soft shallow breaths, all he could feel was her enveloping warmth, her own hands now running through his hair. His gaze met eyes that he’d often and secretly dreamed about but never expected to really see in person. Their shimmering kaleidoscope of brown, amber and gold seemed to glow with a singular hunger, fixed firm upon him, a growing passion burned.

Pidge smiled, relishing the moment of awed surprise in his eyes. She knew now that they needed little breathing breaks between each passionate exploration of one another’s mouth. She knew that she wanted to lose count of those passionate kisses. Pulling him in, that’s precisely what she did. Two minds turned to a singular emptiness, filling up again with an exceptional closeness. Pidge had read or heard the phrase that the world would cease to exist for couples as they kissed and kissed, pulled their lover closer, kissed, felt the warm and thrilling softness of their caresses and kissed. She had never really believed it, but now she was swept up in that feeling first hand. Time and space held no meaning, just him, just these feelings, this instinctual perfect moment. She drew in a deep breath involuntarily as she felt Lance’s soft lips suddenly press against her neck, a slow trail of kisses returning to her mouth again. He briefly pulled away, a teasing smile on his lips, she felt herself leaning forward chasing him, refusing to let him go, pulling him back in by the lower lip. The sweetness of that victory, of winning him back to their shared passion, was remarkable. Neither of them wanted this to stop. Not for an instant.

“A _hem_!” A rather insistent fake cough suddenly snapped them back to reality. They were short of breath, faces reddened and reddening further as they came to rest on the source of the sudden sound. There, with his broad back to them both, looking politely away, was Shiro. Noticing the sound in the lift had changed, hearing quiet footsteps to the metal floor, Shiro ventured a glance over one shoulder to his teammates. When he’d first attempted to walk into the elevator, he had taken a few seconds just to try and process what he was seeing. As the door slid open, he had been trying desperately to gather up his composure. Had they seen him at that point, he imagined his face would have looked a little bit like theirs. Caught in the headlights. Might have been difficult had they seen him that way. Though perhaps his hair wouldn’t have looked quite so _tousled_. Shiro’s expression now was firm, not unkind perhaps, but certainly not as it had been. Truth be told he had waited quite a while before finally coughing, wanting to not interrupt. However, he was eventually left with no choice, if only so he felt like less of an intruder, less of a _voyeur_ , having stumbled into this very public yet private moment. He had seriously considered simply walking out and just waiting for the next elevator, but this wasn’t an issue he felt he could or should ignore. He turned fully to face them both. “Would one of you care to explain?” Shiro’s tone showed no strong emotion but carried with it a cold and unspoken authority.

“I know we’ve been away from Earth for a while, but I’m _pretty sure_ it’s called kissing…?” Lance pushed his luck.

Shiro shot him a look. Whilst his hair was a mess, his eyes were red and his sweat implied he was still quite feverish, he still commanded an intimidating presence. “Pidge. Would _you_ care to explain?”

Pidge shrugged, “Well…Lance isn’t technically _wrong_ …”

Shiro’s look at Pidge was only slightly softer than the one he had given Lance. He sighed deeply, grasping the top of his nose between finger and thumb in frustration. “Alright. Fine. We’re all on the same page now. You were kissing. Now, what I’m _really_ looking for is some context. Last I saw either of you, Pidge seemed ready to murder Lance for something he _didn’t even say_ and now…this… I think I may be missing a few steps between A and Z. So again, I would like one of you to explain. Preferably Pidge. Please.”

Pidge folded her arms, “I’m currently working on the hypothesis that Lance’s mind and mine have been somehow connected. Still gathering data on how exactly it happened. Beyond that, and with respect, Shiro…” She paused, gathering herself, “I’m not sure it’s _any_ of your business what our personal life is. I don’t want to go into all the details. _This is a thing now_ and you should just accept that.”

Lance looked to Pidge, nodding, visibly impressed. “That about covers it…”

“Your minds are connected…?” Shiro enquired. He reached for a device on his belt, tapping out a few commands. Keeping it hidden from Pidge, he showed it to Lance. “What does this say, Pidge?”

“Antidisestablishmentarianism.” She responded quickly, not missing a beat. “Which was kind of a cruel word to give to Lance. No offence meant Lance…”

“None taken, honestly it looked like gibberish to me…”

“To be honest…” Pidge thoughtfully pondered aloud, “It kind of is…”

Shiro groaned, “Alright, random unexplained telepathy, teenaged hormones and most of the team has been incapacitated by alien food. Just another perfectly normal Wednesday…” He shook his head, “Pidge, surely you can see that potentially raises _more_ issues. Who’s to say these feelings you two are experiencing aren’t a _direct result_ or even a _symptom_ of whatever’s causing your mental connection? Feelings like these don’t just suddenly come from nowhere…”

“Right.” Pidge agreed, “They don’t. I may not know exactly why our minds have connected, but what I _am_ sure of is that what I’m feeling, what we’re _both_ feeling is _not_ a side effect…and it’s not something _new_ for either of us...”

Lance gingerly volunteered his input, “Right. I’ve…” He went quiet again, “I’ve just been too scared to tell her…”

Shiro practically glared at Lance, “Really? _You_? Scared of being forward with a girl…?” He grunted with disgust, “Here’s what I’m thinking, Lance. You’re an older guy, thinking you can _manipulate_ a young woman. Finally get some of that easy _gratification_ you’ve been looking for _all over the universe_. Tried everywhere else and now you decided to try your luck here. That sound about right…?”

Pidge’s angry response was silenced with a stern look, even her mind went blank in Shiro’s glare. Lance’s pain at the accusation shook her. For a second, she thought there was something else behind Shiro’s eyes…

“Well, Lance?” Shiro insisted, “ _Do I have it about right_ …?”

Rather than anger, Lance just seemed utterly drained, defeated and hurt, “No. No you don’t have it right at all, man. I was too scared to lose one of my best friends, Shiro… Scared that… No, I _knew_ that I’d never be good enough for her… I thought it would be better to keep quiet than face a _real_ rejection that I thought I _knew_ would happen… I can’t believe you’d think of me that way…as some… _predator_ …” He fiercely sniffed back tears before they could fall, his voice now a razor of spite, “But fine. Screw you, Shiro. _Get Quiznaked_. If you want to think that about me, go ahead. It _doesn’t_ change how I feel. It _won’t_ stop me from caring about Pidge. I don’t know how or _why_ she can feel this way about me of all people…but I’m not about to give this up because of bull like that.”

Shiro’s expression softened, “Huh. Well what do you know? You’re _actually_ serious!” He laughed, his tone now positively jovial whilst he took Lance into a manly one-armed hug. “I can see how sincere you really are about this and… I’m surprised, _really_ surprised to be honest… Lance, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this serious about…well to be honest, _anything_! Though, fair warning right now, it had better stay that way.” His tone darkened, “You _ever_ hurt her, and you _will_ regret it… We clear?”

Lance nodded as the sudden embrace was released. “Y-yessir…”

“Alright, _Space Dad_ does the boy I brought home meet with your approval…?” Pidge huffed.

Lance blinked, reality was currently leaving him quite puzzled. “That was…a test…?”

Shiro chuckled, “So, how long _have_ you been keeping quiet about how you really feel about Pidge…?”

Still dazed, Lance answered like a reflex, “Garrison… Earth…”

Shiro raised a curious eyebrow at that, “But back then… Huh. Ok. You think you know someone.” He said with a nonchalant shrug. Turning to Pidge, he assured, “You know I’m just looking out for you. Both of you, in fact.”

“I know.” Pidge wandered back to Lance, wrapping one arm gently around him, “But I’m not a kid, Shiro. Neither of us are…we know what we’re getting into…but we still want to try…” She smiled up to him, the expression returned, “I must be crazy, but this idiot makes me happy…”

“And you make this idiot happy, Pidge.” Lance grinned, “Now, could you maybe stop holding us up? Pidge says we need to get this whole spooky mind connection thing solved so we don’t become a gazpacho identity…”

“ _Gestalt. Entity._ ” Pidge sighed, “Why would I be worried about _soup_!?”

Shiro looked nervously between the two, “Well, actually…” He looked to the floor, breathing out in a long exhale, “I suppose I need to just… Well, you know… Whilst I have you both _here_ I should… Well, I need to just make sure you’re both… _being careful_ … You know…take… _precaution…_ ” He tried to hide his nerves behind a clearing of his throat, “Which is to say, that you should listen to one another and also trust one another…and…also _respect_ one another… One another’s _feelings_ … And not rush! Or _be_ rushed! Not into anything that either one of you is in _any way_ uncomfortable with…and…be _safe_. Always be safe. Very safe.” He smiled, forcing a laugh to sound casual and failing. “But you both know what I’m getting at right…? Pretty sure the Castle can make…some…”

Pidge was just holding back laughter, burying her face in Lance’s chest.

Lance meanwhile fixed Shiro with a confused expression, “I’m not sure I get what you’re saying… We already trust each other, respect each other… What do you mean by safe…? We’re not doing anything dangerous… Well, aside from piloting ancient war machines against an evil empire that rules the known universe…”

“Well no!” Shiro blurted a bit too abruptly, “No, Lance you’re right! It’s _not_ dangerous, not if you’re cautious! If you’re both cautious. _Precautious._ You know. With… _Precautions_ … Because there’s a lot of bad advice out there, and you both know better than to take it. So use…precaution… Just remember, it’s nothing _wrong_ , I’m not saying it’s wrong! You are both capable of making that choice yourselves. It’s a perfectly natural thing for…those who care about one another to express that affection in that way… To…find out what’s…good... And it’s also perfectly natural if you want to wait! There’s no wrong way, just so long as you’re both careful and respectful. And safe…”

Pidge by now was fighting back shudders from barely controllable fits of muted giggles.

“I…don’t follow…” Lance stared blankly.

Shiro paled, forced a laugh, forced a second laugh, “Sure! Ok… Well… So…you’ve had _The Talk_ right…?”

“What…talk…?” Lance was growing more and more puzzled.

“You know…” Shiro’s voice began to waver, his sweat was already slick but growing slicker. “ _The Talk_. From your parents? Or a class? Or looked it up online? Read a book? You know. _The. Talk._ About…the _birds_ and the _bees_ …?”

Lance blinked, “We’re in _space_ Shiro! What _birds_ and _bees_ are we going to have to deal with? Can you believe this guy, Pidge? You sure you’re not hallucinating or something, Shiro? You know you don’t look well at all…”

Pidge whimpered, prodding Lance in the ribs and holding him tighter.

“Quiznak…” Shiro muttered, “Well. I guess it starts with…ummm…it starts with _love_. Right, you have two people who love each other very much and they want to…express that love…to each other… _with_ each other in a new way. It’s not just, kissing and the other stuff…it’s more than that… And sometimes it’s two men and that’s fine. Sometimes it’s two women and that’s fine. And sometimes it’s one man and one woman and that’s fine. Love is love. And, with you two… One man and one woman, a guy and girl, very good friends, _best friends_ , _more than friends_ , who care very much about each other and want to take their relationship further…and further _again.._.well maybe if you want to, then you two will…I mean, you _can_ … But it’s not _necessarily_ you two, it’s just examples! An _example_ man and an _example_ woman who love each other…very much…and choose to express that love in a…in a very profound, close, meaningful way that…that _connects_ them on a deeper level… Y’know, it’s actually a little bit like forming Voltron! There has to be that same trust, that understanding…the lack of secrets and…well…except it’s not usually for _five…_ unless…sometimes…which can also be fine as well…”

Lance was now raising his free hand and waving, “Oh! Oh! Shiro! Got a question. What do you mean by _other stuff_? Cause you said kissing and the _other stuff_ and then there’s more…but what’s the other stuff…before the _more_? And if it’s like forming Voltron, does that mean we have to _shout really loud_ and stuff…? Who forms the sword?”

Pidge squirmed with more laughter.

“Well…it _can_ get…loud…” Shiro struggled, “And I guess…maybe both do a little… But, for the other stuff…well there are…there are times when someone you love, you may want to…but _only if they want to as well_ …you might decide to…well…touch _sensitive parts_ …and…do some…heavy petting…”

Pidge could take no more, with a loud snort, she cracked up, “Shiro! No! Just stop, please stop! _Heavy Petting_? Who says that any more…? Who _ever_ said that…?” She couldn’t speak any further whilst the laughter shook her body, tears streaming as she struggled for air, “Come on Lance, he’s had enough…”

Lance smirked, “Don’t worry Shiro. Message received loud and clear. Just messing with you.”

Shiro’s face darkened. “ _Of course_. I must be sicker than I realised if I bought that load…”

Pidge made a mental note to never play Lance at poker, which naturally Lance overheard. She elbowed him in the side as he thought of a lewder version of poker he’d be _very_ happy to play.

“My goodness!!” An excited cooing echoed in the corridor, “Just what could that _lovely_ smell be…?” The question preceding the stumbling form of Allura who was wrapped haphazardly in a white bath robe and pink slippers, each on the wrong foot. Her hair was wild, wet most likely from a recent shower. Grinning moronically at the now staring lift passengers, her green and orange speckled face, neck, arms and even shins erupted into several blue puffs. She propped herself against the door frame, taking several long deep sniffs of the air. Her face began to light up in explosive joy as she looked to Pidge, who had her arm around Lance’s waist. “Can it be!? Yes!!” She practically screamed, pointing at them with both outstretched arms, “Who knew it!?” She paused as if waiting for a crowd to respond, before pumping her fists. “That’s right, _Quiznakers_!! _I knew it_!! _I quiznaking knew it_!! Allura called it!! That’s right!! Score one for the Princess!! Pidge and Lance have made their home within a tree, and I don’t know how the rest of that Earth rhyme goes, but I’m pretty sure it implies passion, intimacy and happiness!!” She began to dance, badly, in an act of smug victory.

The passengers stared, mute.

“All the squirting little lovely smells!” Allura skipped to the puzzled couple, she held her hands in a beak shape above each, mimicking the action of squirting and spraying with a hiss of “Psssst, Pssst, Pssssssst!!!” She giggled, putting on a deeper, gruffer voice as she ‘spoke’ through a hand above Lance, “Psssst Pssst, Hey babe, how about we get down to some fun!” ‘Speaking’ through a hand above Pidge’s head, making a higher squeakier voice she ‘responded’ “Psssst, Pssst, Oh Yes, Lance, Do it Lance, _Lance, Laaaaa_ …”

“ _That’s enough_.” Shiro silenced the now pouting princess, “You’re not well Allura…”

“Thanks for the update, _Spaaaace Daaaad_ but I am quite _enjoying_ the pheromones from these two young lovers. It is a joyous occasion and we simply must prepare a formal ceremony of coupling!” Allura pulled both of them into an embrace. “Isn’t that right? A celebration and declaration of your newfound love!”

“Wait…ceremony of what…?” Lance paled, “Is that like, an Altean wedding…? We haven’t even had a _date_!”

Pidge meanwhile was silent and blushing, her mind now fixated on what her pheromones were saying behind her back. Though completely undetectable to a human on any _conscious_ level, it seemed Alteans had no problem at all deciphering the chemical signals. That explained Coran earlier at least. Quiznak.

“Does _everyone_ call me Space Dad…?” Shiro mumbled to himself, “Look, Allura…”

Allura rose, striding over to Shiro, “I think you’re becoming _much_ too familiar, Paladin. Even though we are now both Paladins, you should still refer to me as _Princess_ Allura. I have decreed that a ceremony of coupling shall take place between these two so that _all_ may share in their joy! And _you_ will look me in the eye when I speak!”

Shiro, now staring just above Allura’s head visibly paled and swallowed. “Princess Allura. We can discuss the ceremony later. Now’s _not_ the best time. Right now, I need to get you back to your room… And you need to…” He raised a hand nervously, gesturing downward. “ _Fix that_ …”

Allura readjusted her robe with a shrug, retying the belt about her waist, a puff of blue smoke from her green and orange rashes mingled with a small blush. She curled her nose. Took a deeper sniff. She drew closer to Shiro, fixing him with a curious glare and sniffed again. Shock washed over her features. “Oh… _Shiro_ …” She smiled, shock turning back to curiosity. “Well I _am_ flattered…and your scent is truly most pleasing… Perhaps you _should_ escort me to my chambers after all… Perhaps you are not becoming _familiar enough…_ I might even be _persuaded_ to get used to those stubby little ears of yours… Perhaps in the right light, I could even see them as… _cute_ …”

“Princess…” Shiro’s tone wavered as he backed away, she advanced, matching his pace, “That’s _really_ not what I meant… I mean that’s not to say you aren’t lovely because of _course_ you are…in a purely _platonic_ way!! Could you _let go_ of… _that_ …? But, _you’re_ not well and _I’m_ not well and…could you _please_ stop touching that…? _Princess_! _Squeezing is still touching_! In fact, maybe we should go slower? Just a _whole lot_ slower…? Like, _stop_ …? Maybe…? Please…? Maybe a date or two or _three_ first…? Oh, _Quiznak_ … _Princess, please stop touching that…_ ” As the door of the elevator closed, his eyes met with Pidge and Lance in a desperate silent plea of _help me_. A discarded bathrobe belt was resting on the floor between them. “ _Princess_!!” Shiro’s cry echoed in the elevator shaft.

“Huh.” Lance blinked, stunned. “That was…”

“Yeah.” Pidge agreed. “Sure was…”

“He’ll be ok, _right_ …?” Lance queried, “I mean, should we maybe go back and help…?”

Pidge shook her head, “I’m sure he can handle himself…” She decided to ignore the loud thump and a muffled shriek from the floor above. “Pretty sure he can anyway…”

Lance heard a second thump; pretty sure it was against the door. “Yeah, I mean it’s not like Alteans are super strong or anything…and could easily overpower a guy…”

“Don’t enjoy the mental image too much…” Pidge teased. There seemed now to be silence above.

Silence, stillness. The usually undetectably quiet Altean elevator jingle. Even minds were still and silent.

“You think they’re dead…?” Lance only half joked.

“ _What the Wozblay are you doing you Matriarch-Quiznakers!?!?_ ” Coran’s shrill cry echoed from above.

“Yeah…” Pidge nodded, “ _Probably_ dead...”

Lance swallowed hard, “I don’t think I’ve _ever_ heard Coran so mad…” He found himself trailing off, ignoring the muffled screaming and shouting above them. Unmistakable shared thoughts were cropping up between the two. “You’re… _we’re_ …” Lance shuffled, “We’re both thinking about what Shiro said right…?”

Pidge nodded, silently. “Yeah… I mean, _of course_ we are… We’re a couple of teenagers, hormones…” She trailed off, the elevator door politely _dinged_ at a new floor. “Sometimes it’s hard to… _not_ think about…”

Lance shrugged nervously, “Yeah, well try being a guy…I mean I guess you _did_ …but it’s worse for us…like _biologically_ we’re just hard wired to be…well…you know…”

Pidge laughed, shaking her head, “I don’t know where guys get that dumb idea from… It’s not like you have a _monopoly_ on…thinking about this stuff…a lot…” She blushed, “We’re human. In a new relationship… And we’re still young…and we’re pretty much at the mercy of chemical impulses… You can _see_ what’s going on in my mind. You can tell how often it can be…”

“Trying _not_ to see.” Lance swallowed, “Trying and failing.” He admitted, blushed. “But yeah…I’m a little… _surprised_ at how… _frequently_ you ummmm…well…”

“Fantasize.” Pidge meant it to be blunt, but it was more of a blurt, “But…I need to be clear… As nice as it is to do that… I kind of agree with Space Dad… I don’t want to rush into anything…”

“I…” Lance cleared his drying mouth, “I know. And I don’t either… Want to rush I mean… That’s not to say I don’t want to _ever_ cause… Well, I _totally_ do… You _know_ I do…” He winced at his own words.

“I know… And you know that I really…I _really_ do… I’m sort of _fighting it_ right now…”

“Yes!” Lance interrupted, “We both _want to_ …just…not _yet…_ We haven’t even had our first date…”

“I know right!” Pidge agreed, “And Allura’s talking about _Altean Marriage_ and Shiro’s trying to give us _The Talk_ and… I just want to take things as they are…enjoy what happens _naturally_ …” She had taken his hand softly in hers.

Lance nodded, smiled, “Right… Naturally…” He drew Pidge somewhat shyly into what on the outside might seem to be a very slight and tender kiss. Though between the two of them, with an evaporating tension and shared understanding it made for a deeply meaningful fragment of calm in the utter madness of the day.


	7. Less Flawed Metho-Whatsists

As the lift doors opened at their floor, Pidge pulled Lance briskly toward the medical bay. There had been more than enough distractions and even though watching Shiro squirm as he tried to explain the necessities of safe sex had been fun, it was also troubling. Pidge after all had _not_ in fact _watched_ Shiro squirming at all, she had been buried in the soft warmth of Lance’s shirt. Yet she remembered quite distinctly _watching_ Space Dad struggle.

“Yeah, it’s pretty weird.” Lance agreed, “Anomalous even that you should recall mine own recollections. Equally I find myself at a loss to explain the sudden swelling of my normally pedestrian lexicon to such verbiage as this. Mayhap I have tapped into a hitherto unexplored segment within the mighty cerebellum of my most wondrous, captivating and beauteous significant other…?”

“Seems plausible and _more than a little worrying_.” Pidge responded, quickening her pace, “And that’s both the nicest _and_ most needlessly verbose thing anyone has ever said to me…”

Lance furrowed his brow, “Linguistically gifted as well? What can my most revered darling _not_ do? However, my dear heart, my dawn and my sunset, my beloved, the one whom the kindly fates has delivered to one as unworthy as I… I am I must confess quite flummoxed… Have not the automated apothecary apparatuses deemed already a diagnosis fitting for our present state? Why then do we return hence, if not to have such echoed once again?” He sighed, breathing in and out slowly, “Ok. Wow. That was _weird_ … You know a lot of big words. What _can’t_ you do? But, Pidge, I’m confused. The Med Bay already said what’s wrong with us, why are we here again?”

Pidge pulled him through the door, she was slightly overwhelmed that the word _Pidge_ could mean so much to Lance given the opportunity to expand on it. However, there were other matters to attend to now. “I forgot to factor in that the medical systems would operate on similar principles to any flesh and blood physician. Specifically, doctor and patient confidentiality… It might be able to _see_ correlation between our conditions, but it can’t _tell us so_ unless we give it completely unambiguous permission to do so.”

“Is it weird that I understood you completely…? I’m pretty sure it is…” Lance approached a random machine in the med bay, “Yo! Medical Computer, I give you permission to share my records with Pidge.”

“You can share my records with Lance as well.”

“Understood.” A calm mechanical voice responded.

“Ok, now show us our brain scans. Draw attention to _anything_ out of the ordinary…” Pidge was already pretty certain what she would find, “In addition, scan our brains _now_ so we can compare…”

From a nearby plinth, two partially transparent glowing blue semi-solid holographic representations of a human brain began to hover in place. Pidge and Lance wandering toward them slowly, examining a small area that the hologram drew focus toward with an alarmingly flashing red. It was necessary, so small was the area in question. Nestled between each hemisphere, a single molecule. Pidge swiped her hands, zooming in on the area on each scan. “The internal sensors picked up on these as part of the medical scan. If these readings are correct, what we’re looking at is a pair of quantum entangled particles. By all reckoning it should be _completely_ impossible, but there it is… Our minds have been connected at a fundamental physical level…”

“So it _must_ have something to do with your reality radio thing.” Lance smirked, “ _Pretty sure I already said that_ …”

“You were _guessing_ , Lance… I can’t jump to conclusions based purely on a guess…” She frowned, “Though maybe I _should_ trust your guesses more often… I was hardly thinking straight at the time…” A sudden tone from the plinth, “Alright, this should be our _current_ brain scan…” Pidge fell silent as she saw them.

Even Lance could tell the difference, a cold fear gripping him. Where once only a small piece was red, now a coiling mass of interconnected tendrils pulsed that same alarming colour. “So…are these _all_ entangled…?”

Pidge nodded, shaken and cold, “Judging by the pattern I’d say it’s spreading, cascading like…like falling dominoes on connected neural paths…the rate of growth will only increase… I’m tempted to say it appears…exponential… I’m not sure how much time we have left before…” The sting of tears already threatening, she found herself grateful for the arms that were now wrapped around her, even as she began to shudder in truly existential fear. “I may know what’s happening, but tracking down exactly _why_ will easily take longer than we have left…”

“At least we’ll be together…?” Lance tried to sound upbeat, romantic, even hopeful, but could barely manage a defeated whisper of a tone. His eyes turned to the two hovering scans, filled with red. He began to stare, examining them more closely, “Is it just me, or do some of them look like…waves…?”

Pidge glanced at them, looking closely only for a moment, “It’s probably just pareidolia… Seeing meaning from random data… Like when you see shapes in the clouds... Lance, we’re looking at neural paths from two different minds, each thinking two different things and each with two different sets of initial pathways set up… There _won’t_ be a pattern… Maybe you’re just thinking of waves because you miss Varadero beach…? I know you’re thinking of it… And I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but I’d be red as a lobster within seconds at a place like that. And if you tried to get me wearing that barely-there bikini you’re thinking of, I’d suffer on about 99% of my body… It’s a nice shade of green though… Least you got that right…”

“Part of the fantasy is making sure I’ve applied enough stupidly strong sunscreen first, Pidge…” Lance smiled, “Even if I have to put you in a hazmat suit, you’re going to enjoy that beach with me one day.” He held her closer, “I know what you’re thinking of as well… And you need to stop. We’re going to find your Dad. You’re going to see your Mom again… We all will… I don’t know if it’s me you’re catching this from, but the Pidge I know doesn’t give up so easily…” As she nestled her head into his chest, Lance could hardly tell which of their shared tears he could feel the strongest. “Now come on… Help me out here. I need you.”

The two reluctantly pulled apart, wiping cheeks dry in unison. Lance grasped the two holographic brains, placing them one inside the other, looking at them from different angles, wandering around the room with them. Pidge watched him in confusion, trying to fathom the guesswork he was clutching at, trying to summon up the hope he clearly refused to let go of.

“Where were we stood when these scans were taken…?” Lance wondered out loud, the holographic images suddenly whipping from his hands and into the correct position. “Oh… Well, I guess that’s handy…” He began to pace through the higher of the two scans into the lower. From his own readout to Pidge’s and back again. Stretching his arms between two points, he furrowed his brow in thought. “Maybe this _is_ just that _parabola_ stuff…”

“ _Pareidolia_.” Pidge corrected, though now began to examine the two points Lance’s arms were connecting. “Seeing meaning in random bits of unconnected data or stimuli… Like you’re making me do now…”

“Right, that…” Lance shrugged, “Maybe it _is_ just that…” He moved between two other spots, two more, another and another. “And maybe it _is_ just me thinking of home… But when you wake up every morning to the ocean, you get to know waves… And Pidge, I’m seeing _waves_. You’re the science genius, tell me what that means…?”

“Assuming you aren’t just seeing things…?” Pidge’s expression fell, “ _It could mean almost anything_ … Waves exist as part of light, sound, gravity, even _quintessence_ apparently creates or _is_ a kind of waveform… There are just too many variables… Too many _possibilities_ to make any kind of reasonable hypothesis…”

“Ok, so how the heck do we make _less possibilities_ …?” Lance insisted, still trying to draw lines between different points of the holograms, “Come on, Pidge!”

“We need more data.” Pidge said simply.

Lance frowned, kneeling down beside the Pidge brain hologram, practically pressing his skull against it. “Ok, so you come here…” Lance pointed down beside him. “Rest your head on mine. It should make it easier to draw more lines if things are closer… Like drawing a graph, right…?”

Pidge knelt beside him, shuffling and wrapping her arm about his shoulders to place her head beside his. “So what, we wait here for it to get _worse_ and then take another brain scan…?”

“Pretty much.” Lance confirmed, “Though I get the feeling you’re not exactly on board…”

“Your methodology seems flawed Lance…” Pidge ventured delicately.

“Ok, fine. Whilst we wait to turn into the double-bodied _Plance_ , maybe you can think of some _less_ _flawed_ metho-whatsists...?” Lance held back anger, knowing it would make no difference. “I get that you’re scared, Pidge, we’re _both_ scared… Hell, I’m _terrified_ right now… But at least I’m trying…”

Pidge sighed, “Alright… Take another scan once the condition worsens…” She commanded to the room, being met with a slight beep in response. “You’re right, Lance… I’m just letting the very _minor_ stress of facing the end of my existence get to me… Surely that seems a little understandable…?”

“Bet you haven’t eaten either…” Lance’s light chuckle accompanied a soft prod.

“No comment…” Pidge grumbled. Her attention was quickly drawn to a third set of scans, “Quiznak…”

“…the cascade effect is getting worse even quicker…” Lance stood, grasping one hologram, placing it where his own head had been moments before.

“…than I anticipated…” Pidge mirrored his action, placing her scan alongside. “See?” She asked.

“I told you there were waves!” Lance began to draw more lines between seemingly random points, “Is there…”

“…a way to draw between these points?”

“Give me a…holo… _pen_ …?” Lance asked the room.

Pidge grasped at a newly hovering green holographic tool, “See? These points…” She drew in a broad stroke.

“These points…” Lance took the device, paused, “These and these…” Drawing a straight line with each word.

“Waves. Just like I said…” Pidge nodded, scrawling several more lines in quick succession. “And it’s subtle…”

“…but they’re slowly converging to a single point…”

“…elsewhere in the ship, but where…?”

“…I can just extrapolate their path…”

“…overlay it with a deck plan of the castle…” Their hands working as one in the holographic mess and swiftly making a translucent model of the ship appear.

“…properly scaling down, retracing the trajectories…”

“…necessary to account for other factors…?”

“…No, not at this stage, go by…”

“…instinct. Make an educated guess….”

“…work from there…”

“…not much time…”

“…not much choice…”

“…My scent is _quite_ distracting…”

“…So is my body…”

“…Here, they all converge…”

“Here…” Lance and Pidge said at once, their extended fingers resting on the same cabin. They blinked, turning to one another as though awakening from a daze.

“Yes.” Lance answered her question before she could ask it, “We were finishing each other’s sentences…”

“But we don’t have time to worry about that now, Pidge…” She assured herself, “Right. The source of these waves is clearly…”

“…The unshielded PPC. I have been so _dense_ today…” Lance struck his forehead, “I should have suspected it the second Rule 63-Pidge…”

“…told me about it.” Pidge agreed. “But there’s no time to worry…”

“…about that… I was distracted by Lance after all… Stupid Sexy Lance…” The Blue Paladin made his way to a nearby comm link, “Pidge to Hunk! You’d better not still be hallucinating, big guy!”

“Good thinking, Pidge.” She smiled brightly at Lance, “He can grab it, meet us half way…”

“…closest place between our two locations…”

“…quickest route would be by zipline…”

“…Green’s hangar.” Lance nodded, “Lance to Hunk, are you awake…?”

The screen on the comm link flickered to life, an obviously bleary eyed and feverish Hunk responded from the other end, “Lance…I had the weirdest dream… You were there…and Pidge was there…”

“And you were chasing your appetite…” Pidge interrupted, “Listen buddy…”

“…I need you to meet Lance and I…” Hunk’s head snapped to his friend.

“…in the Green Hangar bay…” Snapped back to the young genius.

“…go into _my_ room on the way…” To the slightly older idiot.

“…there’s a blue glowing cylinder…” And back to Pidge.

“…looks just like a really cool lamp…” Had Lance been practicing this?

“…shut in a lead lined box…” Had Pidge as well?

“…on top of some junk in _my_ room…” Wait, Lance doesn’t have junk in his room. Not _all the time_ anyway.

“…touch anything else in my room…” Wait, _your_ room now Pidge, did you two _move in together?_

“…even _breathe_ on my wardrobe…” This is getting seriously strange, Lance…

“…and everyone finds out about that one time…” How the heck did _Pidge_ know about that?!

“…you _know_ the one I mean…” Lance _told her_!? Quiznak…

“…think you can get there…” Pidge really sounds worried though.

“…as quick as possible?” So does Lance…

Hunk by now was dizzy trying to follow the single request from two people and rubbed at his temples, “Ok, but just to be 100% sure… This thing is in… _Pidge’s_ room…? Right…?”

“Yes. _That’s what I just said_.” The two of them said as one, “Make sure to bring a scanner too. I will need to monitor the cascade. Hurry Hunk, I don’t think I have much time...”

The Yellow Paladin groaned as the screen flickered off, “And I thought the _Squizard_ dream was weird…”


	8. A Blue-Jalooped Buzzbeast

Weird was something that Hunk was by now worryingly used to. He was after all part of a group of youngsters battling an over 10,000 year old warlord who fed on the lifeforce of entire worlds. He had been living on a vessel that made Faster Than Light travel into a triviality. He had eaten things that no other human even knew existed, even his fellow Paladins refused some of Hunk’s preferred dishes. He was friends with a sentient war machine built from a comet that came from outside reality as he knew it. He was also crushing super hard on a kind hearted soul who lived on the outer surface of a giant space creature, her smile caused him restless night after restless night. The worst part was that _everyone knew it_ even though he denied it. His was now a life where weird was practically ordinary. So when Hunk called something _weird_ it wasn’t something he did lightly anymore.

“You guys are _weird_.” Hunk seemed to shudder, “This whole talking at exactly the same time thing is really creeping me out!” He had grabbed Pidge’s laptop as well as the blue glowing lamp thing, both were held tightly under one arm. They had given him a very basic outline of the problem, though Hunk remained confused and still not entirely sure that he wasn’t still hallucinating.

“Imagine how I must feel.” Pidge and Lance responded, beat for beat in sync.

“And stop referring to yourselves as _I_!” Hunk insisted, “It’s _we_. WE!”

“Not from my perspective of the situation.” The two spoke, each following the other’s footsteps in precise time. Their facial expressions seemed to echo a singular look of quiet defeat. “You have brought the programmable particle chamber. You have brought a means to scan me. Show me the latest result.”

Hunk, fighting back an urge to shudder, opened the laptop and showed them the latest scans, he set down the rest of his cargo on the floor. “Well, the Castle sensors took this scan of you both just before I arrived…” Two brains, each with only the very thinnest coating of blue. “And this one just a second ago…” Hunk paused, before showing them the next. Two brains, entirely filled with red. “I think we’re too late…”

“Regrettable.” The two spoke, “Though I must now adapt to this new paradigm.”

Hunk shook his head, turning to each of them in turn, “No way! If there’s even a _chance_ this can be reversed, we need to do it! We can’t take you both home like this!”

“As I said…it is regrettable…” The two looked to the Green Lion, “It will be problematic to pilot either green or red lions in our current state. It seems prudent that new Paladins be found to replace me…”

Hunk pointed to the PPC on the floor. “You said this needs shielding, right? And so far you only tried lead, right?”

“That’s correct.” The two responded, their eyes growing glassy and distant.

“So we can try other things!” Hunk said desperately, “We have the Green Lion right here, you’d think that trans-reality super metal could do the job, right…?”

“Unlikely.” The two lowered and shook their heads, “Green was used to amplify the effect of the chamber. It stands to reason that effect would permeate the material. It would not act as shielding. There is equally no certainty that shielding will be beneficial. Hunk, my friend. It is regrettable, but this is the reality now. I will grow to accept it. You must do so as well.”

Hunk frowned at the two, “That’s just Lance’s lack of self-belief talking. That’s making Pidge give in to pushing people away.” He grabbed each of them, turning them roughly to face each other, “Maybe whatever you _think_ you are right now is ok with this… But is _Pidge_ really ok with it…? Is _Lance_ really ok with it…? Look at each other…”

“There is no longer a distinction between the two…” The two responded, “I am all that remains.” Though as each half of the two stared upon the other, silent tears fell in mirrored rivers. Two hands reaching out to the other, to wipe it away. “Please do not cry…it hurts us to see…us cry…”

“See?” Hunk insisted, “ _Us_. _Not I_.” He sighed, “I can’t think of any other way to do this…” He looked to the glowing blue device. “What happens if I just smash the damn thing…?”

“We…” The two turned to him, “We would not recommend it. The distinct possibility exists that we are entangled as much to the device as each other. It was after all the result of each of our previous selves touching the unshielded device that caused our change. One felt the pain of the other and the result was inevitable. Destroy the device, the resultant cascade might destroy me… _us…_ The result would be… _unmaking_ our brains on an atomic level…”

“That’s what I was afraid of…and what about setting up that reality radio thing you guys were talking about? Find another Pidge out there in the multiverse who could help undo this…?” Hunk was growing ever more desperate.

“The device requires the Programmable Particle Chamber at its heart.” The two responded, “It would need to be coded to a suitable frequency; Pi to 15 places or higher, the Golden or Silver Ratio, Khinchin’s Constant, Chaitin’s Constant, the name _Lance_ or the pie flavour _Apple_ converted into the enigma cipher. All of these would be suitable choices. However, such changes to the Programmable Particle Chamber would most likely also cause a change and thus a cascading failure in our entangled minds. Again, leading to our unmaking. It is regrettable.”

“Would you stop saying this is _regrettable_!?” Hunk snapped at them, angry tears threatening to tumble from his eyes as he felt more and more powerless, “Spilled milk is _regrettable_ , a fallen soufflé is _regrettable_ , being subjected to Coran’s _poisonous food_ is _regrettable_!! This right here is a _quiznaking tragedy_!” He sniffed in his tears, “So you’ve tried lead and you think trans-reality metal might only make it worse. Fine. That still leaves a massive amount of the periodic table left to try! I’m not about to just give up so easily and nor should the two of you!”

“Ummm, sorry to interrupt!” An almost endlessly chipper voice echoed into the hangar. The two and Hunk turned to see the ginger haired Altean being hurried along by three little creatures, one pink, one blue, one yellow each pulling at his pant legs and a fourth, blue furred with stern red eyes, pulling at his moustache. The Altean mice squeaked and tugged with growing urgency, Coran tried to smile despite the obvious pain his frequently yanked lip-fuzz was causing him, despite his still present illness and despite struggling with a very well maintained plant spilling over the sides of its tall black vase. “Not at all sure what’s going on here…not at all sure why the mice dragged me here… But… Hello!! And get off my moustache you _little beast_!!” Coran finally had his fill and grasped the mouse on his moustache, fighting the urge to hurl it away and instead gently placing it to the floor, patting it softly on the head. “Sorry! You’re not a little beast, you’re just an _excitable_ little fella! Sorry all!! Today has just been a _slightly_ hectic day for ol’ Coran… I think I’m just a teensy-weensy bit _stressed out_ having to look after all of you, _and_ myself… I’ve been running around the castle like a blue-jalooped buzzbeast… And just to make it worse, Hunk has _escaped_ again… What am I now, eh? Have I become some _new_ Earth born root vegetable, or am I still a _carrot_ that you need to attack with a peeler…?” Coran was smiling yet seething.

“It’s alright, the hallucinations have stopped!” Hunk reassured him, “Now we just need to try and fix the fact that Pidge and Lance have quantum entangled brains…” He paused, “I totally understand how you _might_ feel that those two statements _completely_ contradict each other…”

“Oh, you don’t say…” Coran groaned. The four mice began to swarm over him, grasping at his plant, tearing leaves from it. Coran just sighed as clumps of soil and roots began to be hurled into the air. “Maybe I died when I ate the Narplarb? Maybe I died and this is Wozblay…?” He placed his once prized plant to the ground as the mice continued to savage it. The tiny blue flowers turned to confetti brought a tear to his eye.

The two regarded Coran with an oddly distant gaze. “Greetings, Coran. When you are more at your ease, I must discuss the matter of finding paladins to replace me.”

“And hello to you _both_ … Gosh that talking at the same time thing _sure isn’t spooky…_ ” Coran smiled nervously back at them, shuffling over to Hunk. “Is this _normal_ in human mating rituals…?”

“ _Mating_ …?” Hunk raised a wary eyebrow at Coran, “No, this isn’t… Look, I already told you, the two of them have quantum entangled brains! Every _cell_ , every _atom_ in their minds are connected!”

“So, you’re saying it’s _not_ normal for human mating…?” Coran confirmed cautiously.

The two just stared silently.

“No!” Hunk insisted, growing more irate, “Why would that even cross your mind!? How would this be normal!? And again, I think I need to stress the term _mating_ …”

“Ok, fine, it’s still early so it’s still just _courtship_ …though given today, nothing would shock me too much…” Coran mused, “They certainly don’t _smell_ the same way they did earlier…” He pondered the two as they watched the mice destroying his plant in a flurry of heaving clouds of green, blue and brown. “Why are they so distant…? They don’t seem to have a shred of emotion between them…”

Hunk just breathed deeply in frustration, “I don’t know exactly, Coran… It’s not like they _never_ show feelings… My best guess is that they’re in shock… They aren’t two separate people any longer…they can’t process that…”

“This vase sparkles from within…” The two seemed to stare into the glossy black cylinder, it tipped over with the force of the four mice within working to that single goal. The Altean rodents were now busily shoving out every last crumb of soil, root and dirt. “…These mice are very methodical.” The Two added, turning as one to the laptop and examining their latest scan.

“I know the feeling of being in shock well enough.” Coran’s voice wavered. “Those were Horthian Vines. Very rare, very beautiful in bloom and _very_ difficult to grow… And now they’re compost… But yes, isn’t it wonderful that the _pot_ is sparkly on the inside…” His irritation was obvious.

“Why would your vase be decorated on the _inside_ Coran…?” Hunk began to inspect the sparkling inner surface more closely, squatting to the floor and bending his head upside down. The sky-blue specks of tiny random shards seemed oddly familiar. The Mice all seemed to be insisting on him looking ever closer. Hunk stood himself up, “Coran, is this thing lined with fragments of scaultrite…?”

The elder Altean nodded, “Good eye, Hunk. It wasn’t so fashionable for the last couple of centuries on Altea, but back when I was a lad you could barely move for knick-knacks, wotsits and gizmos all made of the stuff. Some enterprising Teludav engineer decided he could make even more on the side selling what was essentially a waste product. The broken lenses, made them into all sorts. Genius really, but then everyone started doing it. Never saw one like this before though. Don’t really see the point in all the scaultrite being internal and invisible to the eye… Still, it worked well enough as a plant pot…”

“And where did you find it…?” Hunk’s tone and gaze curious and irritated.

“Well…I didn’t _find it_ at all.” Coran shrugged, “Mice found it for me a while back, Allura asked them to help out with my horticultural hobby. Had to transfer my baby into a larger pot, you see. Who knows where they found it…”

“We could ask Allura…?” Hunk ventured, “She speaks psychic mouse, right?”

“Allura is confined to quarters until she is well once more. _Strict_ quarantine. Nobody is to _see_ her or to _speak_ with her or even _come within 50ft of her cabin_ without both my _direct supervision_ and being doused in a bucket of quite unpleasant perfume.” His expression turned deathly severe, “And I shall say no more on the subject…”

Hunk knew better than to press the issue further, though he felt certain there was more going on than perhaps he even _wanted_ to know. The Two were still fixated on their scan and the mice were struggling with making the flower pot do anything but spin around in a circle, the largest of the four mice, Platt, was taking the role of foreman or perhaps choreographer and trying unsuccessfully to guide their progress. “Pidge?” Hunk queried.

The Two remained fixated for a moment, before both raised their heads and spoke, “I suppose I must decide on a new name… What is it you wish of me, Hunk?”

Concern gripped his features, “So…changing the frequency of the PPC will unmake your brains. Smashing the PPC will _also_ unmake your brains. Is _shielding_ the PPC going to unmake them as well…?”

The Two shrugged, “I have insufficient data to form a reasonable hypothesis.”

Watching the mice struggle, Hunk became suddenly aware _where_ Platt the foreman (foremouse?) was directing their efforts. He grabbed at the vase, it’s passengers tumbling out. All four gazed up at him, obvious excitement on their faces as their tiny hands directed him toward the Programmable Particle Chamber.

“I _think_ they’re trying to tell us something…” Coran unhelpfully added.

“Yeah…” Hunk responded, “Couple of steps ahead of you there. See, the problem is that I’m an engineer more than a scientist. We break things, figure out _why_ it broke, and we find a way to fix it again afterwards. It’s more of a _percussive_ art form than most people realise… Thing is that right now, I’m pretty certain _this_ is our solution…” He lifted the vase to Coran. “The scaultrite will _probably_ act as a kind of…broken mirror, scattering and deflecting the energy from the chamber and focusing it back inward… But, we have three possible outcomes if we try that. At one end, we’re looking at reversing the process, everyone’s a-ok. In the middle, the process _can’t_ be reversed but hey, the energy is shielded… At the worst end of the three…this, like every other possibility… _unmakes their brains…_ And the best engineer in the cosmos couldn’t rebuild a brain…”

Coran nodded understandingly, “Not the kind of odds you’re happy to work with…” He turned his attention to The Two, who seemed utterly transfixed on their scan again, prompting a fresh one be made every few seconds. “If it was just the chance that nothing would get _worse_ that’s one problem…but even a one in three chance of…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it. “I’m no stranger to death, I’ve seen far more than my fair share over my lifetime… The responsibility…the _burden_ of it never gets any easier. I don’t delude myself…every time the Castle opens fire on a Galra vessel, there’s going to be more than robots onboard… But that’s war. You distance yourself from it. You have to. Or else it’s you that will meet your end…”

Hunk silently listened, staring down at the cylinder in his hand.

“I had a friend, long time ago… Feels lifetimes ago…” Coran sat himself hard against the floor of the hangar, not even caring that his uniform came to rest in the remnants of his plant. “She was a…I suppose the human word is _Medic_ , but that doesn’t quite cover all facets of the Altean profession… She used to tell me that the hardest part of her job was making the very choice you’re faced with. Risk a potentially lethal procedure that may be able to improve things, or not take the chance and allow the patient to continue as they are… It was a choice you can never walk back from, never really forgive yourself if it went wrong she said… But you had to _try_ to be as objective as possible. Examine what you are trying to _preserve_ balanced against what you’re trying to _gain_ …” His expression grew even more sombre and serious, “Look at them, Hunk…and try to be honest with yourself…”

Hunk stared at his two friends, as their vacant expression focused entirely upon a scan. Their lips moving together in a single mumble. He shook his head, “It’s hard to be _objective_ looking at two of your best friends, Coran…”

“I know Hunk… But, you need to ask yourself… Is living like this really what they would want…? Can you even call this living…?” Coran sighed, “I know it’s a hard thing…so if you like, I could…take that burden…?”

Hunk shook his head grasping the particle chamber in one hand and the vase in the other. Looking at the two closely there was no longer a shred of doubt that these two items belonged together. His gaze fell upon the silent and unmoving Green Lion. “I don’t know if you can even hear me the same way Yellow does… But I do know…or at least I hope…that if Pidge was in danger… You’d stop me right…?”

The Lion did nothing. At Hunks feet, the mice were frantically squeaking.

Hunk slipped the very edge of the chamber to what he now realised was the shielding. He paused, looking to a nervous and sombre Coran. Then he turned to what remained of his two friends. He looked to the frantic mice. He looked to the unmoving Green Lion. His eyes fell at last to the two objects, he could feel his hands shaking. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply inward, outward, inward, outward. He pushed.

Click.

The two halves snapped back together. Opening his eyes slowly, Hunk looked curiously about the hangar. The mice were dancing, Coran look as confused as Hunk felt. He gingerly placed the chamber to the floor.

“Did it work…?” Coran asked to nobody in particular, turning to the two, who still stared at the screen. “Huh… Doesn’t look like anything happened at all…”

Hunk frowned, “I guess… I was expecting maybe a flash of light, or the whole place to shake…or an _explosion_ …or _something…_ It did seem a little… _anti-climactic_ …”

A familiar laugh filled the hangar, “That’s what _she_ said…” Lance murmured, half in a daze.

Pidge elbowed him gently, reflexively, in the ribs.

Coran and Hunk stared in shared astonishment.

“Hey there, sweetheart…” Lance’s bleary eyes and tired smile fixed upon Pidge, “You think they fixed us…?”

Pidge nodded, “Clearly…” She refreshed the scan, their brains now fading back to a full blue, “See? And Lance, I’m nobody’s sweetheart…”

“Wrong.” Lance smirked, “You’re _mine_ … Better get used to it, because I’m going nowhere…”

“Fine…” Pidge softly kissed his cheek, “But maybe we need to talk about _public_ displays of affection…”

Coran and Hunk continued to stare in shared astonishment.

“They’re ok!!” Coran’s joyful cheer was almost piercing.

“They’re a _couple_...?” Hunk questioned, utterly perplexed.

“Of course!” Coran insisted, “What? You thought it was just silly Coran being a wacky Space-Ginger when I was calling it _courtship_ and _mating_ …? Can’t you _smell their fresh pheromones…_?”

Pidge waved. “Still here. Both still here…”

“I think I want the Squizard reality back…” Hunk mumbled to himself, “No Coran, I can’t _smell_ pheromones. Not consciously anyway… They’re a subconscious thing for humans…”

Coran noticeably paled, “Oh… Well, _next_ you’ll be telling me they’re... Not something you can _control_ … Say, if you started just spraying them all around that it’s just… _involuntary_ …?”

Hunk stared blankly. “Pretty much…?”

Coran stood himself up, brushing dust from his uniform. “I think I may have a small matter to attend to… And at least one apology to make…” He turned briefly to Pidge and Lance, “Now don’t you two worry, the Ceremony of Coupling isn’t the same thing as the Ceremony of Joining, what you Earth Folk call _marriage_ … Though admittedly we perhaps _should_ have named them differently to avoid confusion… Anyway, the Ceremony of Coupling’s just an excuse for a party really. Bit of a knees up! Though I suppose we could broadcast it? _Paladins_! Defenders, yes but also lovers… I can see it now… _The ratings…_ The publicity!”

Pidge and Lance glared back.

“Not big on that idea I take it…?” Coran looked terribly crestfallen, “Well, alright then...” He drew extremely close to them, loudly not-quite-whispering, “I’ll drop you both off a box of _essentials_ for new couples…”

Pidge and Lance looked away with equally fierce blushes.

“Alright! Have to Deskaddle!” Coran began walking calmly away before breaking into a sprint for the lift.

Hunk looked to his friends. He was equal parts confused and bewildered, “Do I want to ask…?”

“Space Dad.” Lance said simply. “Got a _little_ pounced on.”

“By Allura.” Pidge explained further. “I blame the bath robe and the Narplarb…”

“Coran was _probably_ a little harsh on Shiro…” Lance pondered. “Black eye?”

“The bruising is probably further south…” Pidge nodded, “Given Coran’s reaction…”

Hunk nodded, “So, _no_. I _didn’t_ want to ask…” With his confusion set aside, his bewilderment set in, “So you two are dating now…? Took you both long enough…” He smiled, practically beamed. “Come on, tell me everything!”

“I’m not sure I can tell you _everything_ or Pidge would kill me…” Lance’s teasing provoked an elbow.

“Nope. You’re no good to me dead. I’d just _tell him everything_ as well… Remember I’ve seen _every_ corner of your mind…” Standing and shrugging, Pidge stretched out and yawned, “I guess it’s a case of…”

“ _Mutually Assured Embarrassment_.” Lance finished the thought, “Yeah, point taken…”

Pidge shuffled uncomfortably. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Lance…”

“Personal Space.” He confirmed, “We went brains deep, we both need some time for ourselves, I get it…”

She smirked, “Please don’t call it _brains deep_ you big dork…”

Lance shrugged, “I think it’s got a good ring to it. Besides, I’m _your_ dork, so what does that say about you?”

“That I’m lucky to have you…” Pidge softly pecked him on the cheek, partly with a tip-toe and a yank.

Hunk stood to leave, walking toward the lift. “Oh yeah. You’re definitely a couple…”

Lance looked to the now discarded Programmable Particle Chamber. An idea flashed into his mind, “You know, Pidge… We could still maybe _use_ this from time to time…”

“Naturally. This is still the core component of the reality radio after all. It’s applications, despite the dangers are very much worth examining…though, the shielding seems to mitigate _most_ of those dangers… Of course, I’m going to use it again…” It was only mid-ramble that she caught the mischief in his eyes and in his smirk. “Oh…” She laughed nervously, “Oh… Well… _That_ might need a bit of… _research_ … But…maybe there could be a few other potential uses…?” She blushed slightly, glad that Lance was out of her mind. This way he couldn’t tell _precisely_ what came to mind. Got to have some surprises after all.

Of course, Lance had a pretty good idea, just based on her shy smile. “See you later then? _Mi amor_ …”

Pidge just nodded mutely as the warmth in her chest surged. She quietly laughed and shook her head observing what was apparently supposed to be a stealthy fist-bump between Hunk and Lance. Though she didn’t hear the entire conversation, apparently it seemed Shiro – amongst his other woes - now owed Hunk a sizeable stack of GAC. Lance’s last shriek of shock questioned how Hunk could possibly have known since the Garrison.

It was not until both had left, that Pidge turned and walked toward a certain someone who still needed a bit of a talking to. The four mice scuttled up to her shoulders, each happily squeaking. Sensing her intent, the Green Lion’s eyes lit up into a soft yellow glow. The vast metal beast gazed down to her paladin.

“Stop me if I’m not making sense, girl…” Pidge smiled, readjusting her glasses. “I have this suspicion you see. Maybe I’m way off… But I get the feeling the mice here didn’t just _happen_ to find Coran’s _vase…_ ”

Happy squeaks had turned to nervous chitters, Green remained silent and still.

“Somehow, probably some _trans reality_ how… You were able to find out about this piece of Altean tech. Maybe from another Green Lion or from another Pidge… Maybe this connection of ours extends much further than I realised…?” By now Pidge was looking just a little miffed, “Or maybe you just remember seeing King Alfor working on it from way _way_ back? Maybe both, who can say…? But I also think that you, much like Allura and much like you connect to me, can speak _Space Mouse_ …”

Nervous chitters had turned to _act casual_ whistling, Green remained silent and still.

“So…” Pidge continued, “Playing what must have been a really long game… You knew I’d eventually find it. You knew… You knew Lance was _bound_ to both check up on me and of course touch the thing. So I guess you also knew what that would do as soon as _I_ touched it…” She paused, “Obviously you knew how _I_ feel about him… And I guess you probably knew how _he_ feels about _me_ from Red _and_ Blue… Never would have expected you would all _gossip_ whilst we form Voltron… Or maybe you’ve got a connection with all the lions all the time…?”

 _Act casual_ whistling intensified, Green remained silent and still.

“So, girl…” Pidge’s tone was steady, cold, “I guess that just leaves me with one thing to say…” She gestured that the Lion come closer. Green lowered herself on each paw, the vast metal face of the giant feline rested less than an inch from Pidge’s face. Her yellow eyes glowed softly. With utmost tenderness, Pidge stretched her short arms about the snout of the Green Lion resting her head against the chassis, “ _Thank you_ …”

Each of the four mice gasped in relief, before hugging themselves against Pidge’s neck. From somewhere deep within the Green war machine, a low and gentle sound began to slowly rumble. Through both this contented noise and through their unspoken bond, an expression of deep contentment.


	9. JRPG Rule Number One

The unmistakable digitised laughter filled his room. For what felt like hours now, he had heard the same sound over and over again, always followed by a growl of frustration, an utterance of _Quiznak_ and her beautiful eyes turning to him as she asked, “Just one more try, _please Lance_ …?” Try as he might, he just couldn’t say no to her. It had stopped being _quite_ so cute about the 12th time tonight. Still cute, sure, this was Pidge after all. Every reaction has an equal and opposite reaction. Entropy increases. Pidge is cute. Three constants of the universe. Lance was pretty sure that she _must_ have left some of her smarts behind for him to make that comparison. Though even with Pidge’s charms the whole thing became significantly _less_ cute the more it cut into his sleep. Truth be told, it wasn’t _just_ because her little routine got to him, but because he was well aware that if he tried to say no, she would ‘politely’ remind him that the games console – despite being in his room only out of necessity – belonged to both of them equally. If anything, the attempt to deny her _just one more try_ would leave Lance sleeping in the hallway. Just like the last time. This time was different of course. As her new partner, he would _at least_ get a pitying kiss goodnight before he slept in the hallway. That would almost make it worth it.

Despite the threat of the hallway, he was growing more concerned. The longer this took, the longer he had to wait before applying his nightly skin care. He could already feel his unmoisturised face turning to a desert of cracked skin. He could imagine pores conspiring to fill themselves with filth and he shuddered. Not quite as much as they had both shuddered as they examined Coran’s boxes of _essentials,_ but it came close. The tamest of the items proved that Altean _anatomy_ was obviously simultaneously close to human yet also quite peculiar. Putting aside the image of extra-terrestrial prophylactic sheaths, Lance looked to Pidge from his bed. She was cross-legged and sitting close to the screen of the jury-rigged Gameflux, still grasping the controller tightly, still staring in contempt at the Game Over screen, the digitised laughter mocking her. Lance knew that it wouldn’t be long before the usual pleading. He decided against looking at how late or maybe early it was and braced himself.

Pidge collapsed backward, her back firm against the floor. She breathed outward in frustration and stared at the ceiling. The digital laughter continued. Lance found himself gazing again, watching the slow rhythm of her breathing as she calmed down. The gentle rise and fall of her chest. She was dressed, as she always would do at these semi-regular night time gaming sessions, in her nightwear. A pair of baggy green boxer shorts and a white and just as baggy sleeveless vest, enough to keep warm but not so much to be uncomfortable in bed. To each side of her, a pair of plush Green Lion slippers sat unfilled by her bare feet. Lance realised that his gaze had yet again fallen onto her subtle curves, the ones that Pidge would normally keep hidden beneath her usual clothing, to the slightest peek of an uncovered waist, pale skinned and slim. He smiled at her, feeling a soft sense of contentment in knowing that he no longer needed to hide this. He no longer had to deny just how beautiful she was as she lay there. No longer had to look away in secret shame.

“I don’t mind you _staring_ , but just _say it_ …” Pidge groaned, her glasses filled with the artificial light of the screen.

“Say what…?” Lance verbally shrugged, “That you probably need sleep after that day we’ve just had?” He smiled to her, “That you look so _very_ beautiful by the light of the screen…?”

“Nice of you to say, but no… Tell me this fight is impossible.” Pidge clarified, “I’ve crunched the numbers myself, and I _know_ the odds are astronomical. 1 in at least 6000. The Supreme Necromangler’s AOE Forced Undeath debuff makes all my healing items _useless_ because my party counts as undead. I can stop it with Dispellimus but that only lasts on average 1.5 rounds before being countered, which is more than enough time for him to unleash his Perma-Summoned EX Legion Knights of Dire Nightflame. Which are _broken_ by the way _._ I’m forced to use the lowest tiered _joke class_ in the game just to turn their Poison Bombs into some _minor_ kind of healing, but due to a stupid bug in the stupid code, they only affect _one party member at a time_ despite being an AOE. Primary Paladin is dealing a reliable 26,000 to 38,000 DPS without buffs, obviously I need my summoner there, but swapping out the alchemist for a cleric long enough to buff the paladin’s Overdrive Gauge leaves us open to a Maximised Infernal Counter Attack… Which basically leaves me fishing for critical hits and trying to keep the Summoner’s Mana Pool from falling below the Magna-Threshold, to keep her bonus damage level at optimum output…”

Lance blanked out somewhere between crunched and Necromangler, though she remained, as ever, _so cute_ when she geeked out. Which meant of course, almost 100% of the time. “Uh… Have you tried Omni-Multi-Summoning the Choir of the Chosen with Echoing Effect…?”

Pidge glared at him, “Do I _look_ like an _amateur_ to you…? The Summoner’s unbridled Spectre Sceptre of the Dark Epoch allows Echoing Effect to resummon twice again in the same combat round… With Reduction To Summon Costs at 85% thanks to the Bonnet of Utter Insight, I’m _Quadruple_ Omni-Multi-Summoning the Choir of the Chosen _every single round…_ ”

“How the heck did you get the unbridled Spectre Sceptre?”

“I had to craft it using the bones of your grandfather that you get in the first level and combine it with Lucifer’s Rod of the Abyss that you find during the third chapter. But, it can only be made on the Forge of The Underking during the festival days… Come on Lance, this is _basic stuff_ …”

“I sold the bones. They took up too much inventory space and carry weight…” Lance shrugged, “Oops.”

Pidge’s glare intensified, “You really are an _idiot_ aren’t you…? That’s like JRPG rule number one. The Rusty Sword worth half a Gold Piece, the ancient family ring, the thing that looks like totally pointless junk, _keep it_ because nine times out of ten, it’s part of a recipe for the top tier items…”

“Yeah, but I’m _your favourite_ idiot… And you’re stuck with me…” Lance smiled kindly, “Not everyone here is a completionist power-gamer, some of us game to have _fun_.”

Pidge sat up, stretching her arms above her head. “For me, this _is_ fun. Mostly…” She grunted, “And I’m about to have one more go… Don’t try to stop me… Or, stuck with you or not, my favourite idiot in the cosmos or not… I will be revoking your public displays of affection privileges…”

Suddenly, a rare _good idea_ popped into Lance’s head. Something that might _subtly_ encourage his gorgeous girlfriend – he still could hardly believe that title - to let him keep beautiful for her. “Pidge, I may have said this already. In fact, I’m sure I have…but I’m getting super sleepy. But I’m not unreasonable. You have yourself one more go. But, if you lose _again_ …then you give me _permanent_ public displays of affection privileges…”

Pidge turned to him, utterly unmoved. “Alright. Hugging fine, kisses on the cheek fine. No tongue, nothing handsy.” She said with barely a hint of emotion, “Seems reasonable, right?”

Lance smirked, he knew Pidge well enough now to know at least one of her poker faces. “That’s hardly anything, of _course_ you wouldn’t be concerned about that… No. Let’s make it _full_ privileges... _Butt squeezes permitted_.”

Pidge paused. “That kind of a threat to my dignity is worth much more than one more go, Lance.”

“Just think of it as an extra incentive, another reason to avoid losing _again_.”

“Well how about we make it interesting?” Pidge queried, “You think I don’t get your little scheme? Trying to _get rid of me_ so you can get your totally unnecessary _beauty sleep,_ right? _Fine_ , you come up with the single worst, most mortifying thing you can think of…and I’ll tell you my own terms. And if I win…no, _when_ I win… You’ll probably wish you’d just said yes to me without trying to be smart…” Her grin was malicious, “Still game, sharpshooter…?”

“Good enough to hit your heart…” Lance smirked, “My terms. Worst thing I can come up with… When you lose. Full rights to public displays of affection, anything considered _first base_ completely on the table, whenever, wherever, _forever_. Occasionally, you _will_ wear an outfit that _doesn’t hide your curves_ and you will do so publicly. You will even have a _choice_ of those outfits… And you’re not _just_ sleeping right away, but you’re sleeping _here_ … I’ll cuddle you so good you’ll wish you’d never want to leave… A whole night of your personal space being made _mine_ … And just think of all the _gossip_ in the morning…”

Pidge lowered her glasses, “Well, I could think of _worse_ fates… I’m especially ok with that whole _forever_ thing… Now _my_ terms. When I _win…_ I get full ownership of the console. Full 24/7 access to this room and _everything in it_.”

Lance quickly offered her his hand from beneath the duvet. With a stretch, Pidge took it, the two shaking vigorously on their agreement. “Done! Oh, but Pidge, _mi corazón_ you are _so_ going to lose! 6000 to 1 odds, you said it yourself! You must really _want_ to cuddle with me… I’m a little embarrassed…” He shot her his cheesy grin.

Pidge grinned right back, “Oh Lance, _mio sciocco adorato_ … We’ll see, won’t we…?” She reloaded her save, skipping through the melodramatic dialogue of The Supreme Necromangler; Licha of Lucha. “You ever hear what Einstein said about insanity?”

Lance struggled to recall, “Considering his famous poster? Dude just rolled with it…”

Pidge shook her head, secretly smiling, “Thought that was giving you an easy one. What you were _supposed_ to say is; _‘The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results.’_ Which it turns out may _not_ have been a direct quote of Einstein’s, regardless of how applicable it may be to Scientific Method in specific and arguably all of life as a general rule…” As she spoke, Pidge was taking her first turn in the game, Summoner unleashing the most potent multi-summon combo, primary paladin activating his ultimate war stance and her cleric casting Dispellimus.

“Your point…?” Lance queried, thoroughly puzzled by moves that not long ago, Pidge was calling flawed.

“You don’t seem to realise that _those_ odds only took into account the variables of my _last_ strategy… Thanks to you, I remembered something I’ve been holding onto and I have a _whole new_ strategy… I feel kinda dumb for not seeing it sooner. The way I figure it now, I’m almost guaranteed to win this fight with minimal effort… I might even be able to put it on auto combat by turn four if I’m lucky…” Pidge chuckled. Necromangler had now Perma-Summoned his EX Legion Knights of Dire Nightflame. “It’s all over now, Lance… You going to back down?”

“You’re _bluffing_ …” Lance paled. “Are you forgetting about the Legion of Knights you let him summon…?”

Pidge opened up an item menu, scrolling down to a container; The Ever-Feather Backpack of Infinite Items. “This is why _carry weight_ shouldn’t be an issue for you. It uses a character’s full turn to open it and take an item in combat, either for themselves or a party member… You have to win it in the fishing mini game…” Pidge shuddered, “Even enduring _that_ it’s still worth it…”

Lance frowned, “Pidge, there’s no way _one_ stupid _item_ can make the difference here.”

Pidge scrolled through what looked like hundreds of components from Dragon Dung-Stones to Holy Buckets of Deahliza, before finally settling on a wholly unremarkable potion, worth a measly sum of gold. “Here it is, the Potion of Elemental Realignment. Good for one use, only one in the game, realigns a single enemy’s elemental damage type to the opposite side of the elemental grid for one battle… Do you _see_ yet…?”

Lance shook his head, “I _see_ you kept hold of a _lot_ of useless junk. Necromangler _isn’t using any elemental attacks_ , he’s using _Necro_ energy. Necro energy and Life energy _aren’t elemental_.” Lance smirked.

Pidge next commanded the potion be handed to the ready slot of her active character. “One last warning Lance. You should really consider backing out…”

“Not a chance!” Lance laughed, “You’re trying to convince me you have _some grand strategy_ , but this is all just trying to make me second guess. Not going to work, Pidge.”

Pidge pressed a command button, her party member hurling the potion toward the enemy. She paused the game. “Tell me a little about the EX Legion Knights of Dire Nightflame. Why are they so broken?”

“Come on Pidge, even _I_ know that… They weren’t properly programmed. They were supposed to summon a Legion of single creatures, but instead they ended up being a swarm. If they were single creatures you could take each one down with a basic strike, but because they’re a swarm and treated like a cloud of insects by the game, first the damage gets halved and then spread amongst the full thousand creatures, making them extremely difficult to kill.” Lance paused for a moment, “Then there’s their aura of Dire Nightflame, which means each of the thousand deals 2000 Nightflame Damage with a chance to set your party alight… Did I miss anything…?”

Pidge unpaused, turning to him smiling, “And what’s opposite Dire Nightflame on the Elemental Grid?”

“Poison…” Lance was by now beyond puzzled and instead baffled, “So wait, because they’re a swarm creature, _all of them_ will have their Direflame turned to Poison… So now instead of every member of your party getting hit with 2 million Direflame a turn, they get hit with 2 million Poison…?”

Pidge nodded, skipped her last party member’s turn. Necromangler Recast his aura. The party irresistibly turned to undead versions of themselves. Pidge pressed a button, activating auto combat. “And now… You get it…”

Lance stared in amazement, “2 Million Poison damage a turn… But you’re forced to be Undead… So you’re getting _healed by the poison_!” He hung his head in defeat, “Quiznak…”

“I tried to warn you…” Pidge gloated, watching as the red health gauge of the Necromangler slowly dwindled whilst her own party just kept getting refilled to maximum.

“Full ownership…” Lance groaned as the health bar hit 66%

Pidge nodded. “That _is_ what we agreed.”

“Full 24/7 access to my room too…?” His heart sank as the bar hit 33%

“And…?” Pidge’s innocent tone didn’t match her insidious smile.

“And!?” Lance practically screamed, “What else was there!?” 0%

The distinctive victory jingle played and Pidge casually scrolled through her loot before saving. She switched the machine and it’s display off, leaving the room only as dark as the usual nightly ambient settings. She slowly walked over to Lance, an evil smirk on her face the whole time, her lenses flashing in the gloom. “My exact words; _when_ I win I get full ownership of the console. Full 24/7 access to this room and _everything in it_.” She perched herself on Lance’s bed. “And do you know what my absolute favourite thing in this room is…? _Can you guess_ …?” She leaned closer, the smirk growing to an almost predatory smile, teeth bared like a steadily by the second more maniacal Cheshire Cat.

Lance swallowed hard.

Pidge kissed his sweet confused features gently, “ _You_ of course, handsome…” Her features softened as she squirreled her way beneath the duvet, rolling into the curve of Lance’s legs and torso. Her soft laughter made her body shake a little before she snuggled in closer. She set her glasses aside on a nearby shelf. Lance was by now quite stunned and unable to move, so Pidge positioned his limp arms as she saw fit. One draped over her and about her waist, the other she bent at the elbow and set her head upon as a pillow. She let out a contented sigh. “Gosh, you _are_ warm… Just to be clear though Lance, don’t get _too_ handsy. Waist is fine, but go higher or lower and I _might_ just break something… Only _might…_ Also, I sincerely hope that’s _not_ your Bayard I can feel prodding me… It’s _ridiculously_ dangerous to sleep with a weapon…”

“So…what’s happening right now…?” Lance mumbled in confusion.

“It’s called spooning, genius.” Pidge laughed softly, “You know you _aren’t_ very subtle right…? There’s really no need to be so coy, you just need to _ask_ to get me to cuddle with you… As for the public displays of affection… It’s all good… I’d suffer just as much by denying you… You think I _don’t_ want people to see…? I want the whole cosmos to know how much we… _mean to each other_ … I might even give the idea of at least skinny jeans a thought… If only for the look on your face…”

Lance rested his head to hers, enjoying the feeling of her close to him, the delicate scent of her hair. The peaceful rise and fall of her breathing. “I am so happy right now…” He whispered. “But, wait does this mean you’ve like… _Moved in_ …?”

“You know, I suppose it is like that…” Pidge nodded, “I guess that makes my room the workshop… Good thinking Lance. Now be quiet, I want to get some sleep…”

“What about the Space Caterpillars…? They moving in too…? _Along with their Lance statue…_?”

Pidge grumbled something beneath her breath. She had been much happier when Lance still assumed it was a random pile of junk. Going brains deep had its downsides.

“Wait…” Lance chimed in again, “So now I’ve got everything that I wanted… I _won_ even though I lost…does that make this _easy_ mode….?”

“I can think of so many ways to hurt you right now, Lance so don’t push your luck…”

“Then is this the part of the game where we fade to black, happily ever after…?”

Pidge laughed, “Nope, brace yourself, casual. By morning, this is going New Game _plus_ …”

“New Game Plus _and_ I’ve got the best co-op partner I could wish for…” Lance kissed the back of her neck gently, squeezing her closer in a loving embrace, “Probably tomorrow morning we’ll need to deal with some new insanity… A civilization to save, a Robeast to slay, another day in the war against the Galra…”

Pidge made an affirmative hum, “Sure, but after whatever we face out there, we can always come back here and just…hold each other close…and everything will be just a little better…a little like… Being home…” What she wanted to ask next made her stomach turn a little, “Lance… Maybe when it’s just the two of us… And I mean _just_ the two of us… This is _not ever_ a public thing…” She paused, “Do you think maybe you could call me my _name_?”

“Only if you don’t get freaked out by what I’m about to say…” Lance breathed gently, “Maybe some people would think this is _quick_ of me to say… Reckless, dumb… But, we’ve walked in each other’s mind… I feel like I’m closer to you than I’ve ever been, ever even _could be_ to anyone else… I guess what I want to say is…” He fell silent.

“Lance...” Pidge sighed with a contented yawn, “I might be crazy to say it, but _I love you too_. Now, sleep…”

Lance smiled, joyful tears shimmering in his eyes as he held her close. “G’night. I love you… _Katie_ …”

 


	10. Author's Note

Today, Bushy Bearded Bear learned that there is a distinction between the "&" and the "/" when describing a relationship on this site.

Until recently, this was listed solely as friendship... 

Gosh, don't I feel silly...

Well, should be more accurate now. Friendship that later turns to love. 

My bad... Sorry!


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